


Tug of War

by yibaek (sparkinski)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Kyungsoo, BBH has an anxious habit of digging his fingernails into his palms, Blood, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Demons, Hand Jobs, Kidnapping, M/M, Magical Elements, Near Death Experiences, Panic Attack, Side SuChen, Strangers to Lovers, Supernatural Elements, baekhyun's father is Evil, lots of cuddling and flirting, mind manipulation of a minor/off-screen character, platonic baekxing kisses, side fanxing, yixing is a healer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 09:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 30,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkinski/pseuds/yibaek
Summary: Baekhyun feeds off of affection... literally. Without affection and love, he will wither away. Enter Kyungsoo, the last man Baekhyun should fall for, the man that drains the life from everyone he touches.





	Tug of War

**Author's Note:**

> for prompt 150~
> 
> i'm so sorry this is a mess but thank you endlessly to s & s for being my rocks during this process <3

“You can’t let it get this bad again,” Yixing scolds, but there’s no heat behind it, only his usual concern. 

“Aw, come on.” Baekhyun grins, reveling in the warmth creeping through the deepest parts of him, the familiar feeling of being fed in his own special way as Yixing holds him close and kisses his hair. “I was just waiting for you, my bestest friend in the world to come back from his trip home!”

Yixing sighs, hands slow as they rove Baekhyun’s side and back beneath his shirt. Skin-on-skin is the quickest way to help. “No, you caught Minseok at a bad time and he snapped at you, so you’re too scared to ask him, even though I was out of town and Junmyeonnie has been bogged down with his play.”

“Which is why I asked Jongdae!”

“Once,” Yixing doesn't hesitate to point out. “He would have happily spent a couple more nights with you. Same goes for Minseok.”

Baekhyun sniffs, indignant. “Why are you keeping tabs on me, huh?”

“Because I care about you, idiot.” Yixing’s hand splays across the back of Baekhyun’s neck to angle his face enough for Yixing to kiss his forehead, then his nose.

Baekhyun grumbles bitterly but it’s really, really hard to stay negative with Yixing’s affection coursing through his veins. He tilts his head up further, shuts his eyes, just barely pouts his lips and doesn't have to wait long for Yixing’s slow and sweet kiss. It’s enough, because Yixing is always enough; the sunken sockets of Baekhyun’s eyes fill themselves back in and the color returns to his face.

“There you are,” Yixing murmurs affectionately, lips skirting to press under each of his eyes. 

Baekhyun preens. “Here I am.” He burrows impossibly further into Yixing’s embrace, tucking his face into his neck and breathing his best friend in. “Missed you, Xing.”

Yixing squeezes him tight. “Missed you, too, Baek.”

\----

Twenty-three years ago, a baby was born from a mother who didn't want him, a woman impregnated from a careless one night stand. He was born with a head full of black hair and sparkly, brown eyes, but also shrunken and weak, with no recovery in sight.

His case stumped doctors; from what they could tell, he was perfectly healthy. Only he wasn’t, he was dying, and there was nothing they could do about it.

One middle-aged nurse took pity on him, couldn't bear to let this baby die alone, so she picked him up from his hospital-grade bassinet, and she walked. Slowly, she walked around the nursery and cuddled him close, sang to him, kissed his forehead because she wanted him to know what it feels like to be loved and not abandoned before he passed. 

But then, subtly at first, the baby began to change.

His cheeks slowly filled out, his eyes became a little less sunken, his lips no longer chapped. 

The nurse watched on in shock, mindlessly stroking his cheek, and when he looked like the perfectly healthy baby he was always supposed to be, cheeks flushed and all… he smiled.

Lia, the nurse, was familiar with demons and the Supernaturals that plague their world, including the stigma, the fear from Normals--as non-Supernaturals are called--so she contacted the only doctor she trusted, a Kim Minjung, and together they signed the baby’s death certificate, and Lia took him home with her.

She named him Baekhyun.

\----

“There’s a lot of people out, today,” Baekhyun says after being run into for the fifth time in the downtown area of their small town. 

Yixing just pulls him closer by the hand, protective as ever. “It’s the weekend. What did you expect?”

“Just making an observation.” Baekhyun squeezes Yixing’s hand with a smile, sighing at the warmth that pulses up his arm. The last guy knocked into him pretty hard, enough to leave a bruise probably, but Yixing’s constant touch ensures no wounds will linger. 

Yixing is supernatural, too, a healer. It’s why he is best to help Baekhyun; the affection infused with supernatural healing always works more quickly than receiving affection from anyone else. They’re the only Supernaturals within their group of friends, so they tend to stick a little closer to each other, just in case. Their friends, Jongdae, Junmyeon, Yifan, Minseok, they're accepting, have always been, but worldwide, Supernaturals are still stigmatized, a problem to unaccepting Normals.

Baekhyun nuzzles his cheek against Yixing’s shoulder, earning him a kiss on the head, and he sighs happily. “When will Yifan be back home again?” He’s still in China, where he was with Yixing, but Yixing never stays gone for too long despite Baekhyun’s protests that he’ll be fine.

“Just two days. On Friday.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun murmurs. “Remind me to tell him how grateful I am for him.”

Yixing chuckles. “He knows, Baek. I promise he knows. You tell him every day you see him.”

Baekhyun sighs. “Do you think it’s better or worse to constantly remind him that he’s letting me use his boyfriend to stay alive? How do you think that makes him feel considering he’s a Nurse in Minjung’s wing-”

Yixing reaches over and pinches him, hard. But what would be another bruise once again doesn't even have time to form before it’s already healed. Baekhyun laughs. “You’re not using me,” Yixing says. “And I’m not his property. We’ve been over this a thousand times, Byun Baekhyun. He brought you up in the same sentence he asked me out in-”

“Romantic.”

“You always say that, shut up. Point is, he’s not heartless. He knew I would never leave you behind. I’ll always be here to take care of you, Baekhyunnie.”

Baekhyun smiles his million-watt smile and does his absolute best not to showcase his sadness on his sleeve, how upset he is. Baekhyun is a grown man, he shouldn't need his best friend to take care of him. They even live together, and have since they were kids, even before Lia passed away. Baekhyun’s heart sinks further and shakes the thought. The point is, Yixing shouldn't have to sacrifice time from his relationship, from his _life,_ just because Baekhyun is some half-breed demon who will die if he isn’t _touched_ enough, _loved_ enough. 

He’s the lousiest excuse for a Supernatural. It’s more of a disease than anything for him.

His thoughts come to a halt when he’s suddenly _body-slammed_ hard enough to knock him down, only Yixing is his brace and the offender falls to the ground instead.

Without thinking, Baekhyun is leaning forward to help this person up, a handsome man around his age, probably, he notes, who can't seem to decide whether he should curse or apologize under his breath, a mixture of both almost slurring together. His navy blue hoodie, with the sleeves tucked into his gloves, and khaki pants are in tact, but the man’s hands took the impact of his fall, and both gloves are ripped open at the palm.

It’s hot, Baekhyun off-handledly realizes--too hot for jackets and gloves--as he grabs the stranger’s hand and hoists him forward, only to almost drop him right back onto the ground as what feels like a surge seems to pass through Baekhyun’s body, strong, knocking him off-balance.

“Baekhyun!” Yixing exclaims as the stranger yanks his hand away, shouting, _”No!”_

They stare at each other for a long moment, Baekhyun and the stranger, the latter’s dark brown eyes seemingly wide as they can be, searching Baekhyun’s face for something, but what could it be?

Bewilderment courses through Baekhyun’s veins, along with the familiar warmth of Yixing’s healing, although he doesn't need to be _healed._ Baekhyun is nothing if not curious, and doesn't realize he’s reaching out to touch this stranger again until the stranger scrambles away, runs away from them, brushing past Baekhyun as if nothing ever happened.

“Baekhyun, Baekhyun, are you okay? You-”

“Soulmates aren't a thing, right?” Baekhyun asks, eyes wide as they watch the dark head of hair disappear into a coffee shop a few buildings back. “Like a supernatural-y thing that I’ve forgotten about?”

He can _feel_ Yixing’s eye roll, but also his relief that Baekhyun seems to be okay. “No, Baek, soulmates are not real.”

“Well then that’s it,” Baekhyun decides, unwittingly staring up at the coffeeshop name, _The Coffee Bean._ “I’m claiming it. I’m patenting it. I’m the scientist who has discovered it!”

Yixing tries to pull him in the direction they were already going, but that’s _away_ from the coffee shop! “You’re not a scientist.”

“Potato, Potahto.”

Yixing sighs, squeezing Baekhyun’s hand and making him smile automatically despite his distraction. Holding hands is so nice. 

“What happened, Baek?” Yixing asks. “That was- it felt like it does when you need to be healed.”

“That’s ridiculous! I’m fine!” Baekhyun bites his lip. “Can we get some coffee?”

“Not a chance, Romeo.”

Yixing tugs him away.

\----

“Why are you making me do this?” Jongdae whines.

Baekhyun pulls him by their entwined hands into _The Coffee Bean._ “Because Xing thinks I’m being ridiculous!”

“You _are_ being ridiculous,” Jongdae rebuts immediately, but for all his complaining, he doesn't resist Baekhyun’s grip. “What is so important about this guy anyway? Why would he happen to be here again?”

Sighing, Baekhyun frowns and gets in line. There are four people ahead of him. Plenty of time to… people-watch. The shop is smaller than he expected for some reason, but it’s a cute little place, stained wood walls and floors with bright, abstract art pieces he’s never seen before. He pouts at Jongdae, tugging his hand until it’s nestled and cupped between both of his own. “It’s the only lead I have. I have to try.”

Jongdae squints, uncertainty, argument written all over his face, but surprisingly, he just squeezes Baekhyun’s hand and asks, “You really felt something that… big?”

“I felt _something,”_ Baekhyun insists. “I just need to know what it was.”

Sighing, Jongdae nods. “Fine. But you’re buying my coffee.”

“Deal.” Baekhyun beams.

Jongdae rests his chin on Baekhyun’s shoulder as he looks up at the menu, murmuring items of interest as he reads them, sometimes purposely too close to Baekhyun’s ear, making him shudder and elbow him, yet fall back into place a little closer than they were before until there’s no space left between them at all, Jongdae’s front against Baekhyun’s back, fingers entwined while Jongdae hugs him, chin still on his shoulder. Jongdae has always been the easiest person for Baekhyun to flirt with, because Jongdae’s boyfriend, Junmyeon, will join right in, and invite Baekhyun into their bed, even.

It’s right about then, when Baekhyun has started paying more attention to Jongdae than the people surrounding them, that a figure several feet to their right lingers in Baekhyun’s peripheral, freezing in place long enough for Baekhyun to turn his head and see the man from a few days ago staring at him, bewilderment and maybe even a hint of anger in his thick eyebrows. Baekhyun gulps. This guy obviously remembers him, but this guy is also somehow a lot cuter when he looks like he might, maybe, possibly want to kill Baekhyun in his sleep. Or right this very second.

The man takes one step closer, but stops there. Baekhyun notes that he’s wearing gloves again, gloves with long-sleeves tucked into them, _just_ like last time. “What are you doing here?” His voice is deep, low; Baekhyun has to strain to hear him. Jongdae’s arms tighten around his waist.

“And if I’m here to see you?” Baekhyun bats his eyelashes, breaking from Jongdae’s embrace to take a step toward this mystery man. He’s so _intriguing_ somehow.

The stranger’s expression hardens even further, if possible. “Don’t,” he says, then turns and walks away, clearly heading toward an empty table in the corner. The only empty table.

Baekhyun sputters, mindlessly reaching a hand out. “W-Wait!” The stranger turns his head, casting an annoyed gaze over his shoulder, but a more calculated, cautious one down at Baekhyun’s outstretched hand. Baekhyun drops it to his side. “Maybe I just like the coffee here.”

“You’ve never been here.”

Baekhyun scoffs. “How would you even know that?”

“Because this is my shop-” The man stops short, huffing at his clear slip of tongue. Baekhyun beams, eyes unmoving from him even as Jongdae drags him to the counter.

“Yes, he’ll have a _large_ Americano-” Jongdae starts, but Baekhyun whips around, crying out.

“You order me the devil’s drink and I’ll cut your hair in your sleep, Kim Jongdae!”

Cackling, Jongdae pulls him into his side. “Then pay attention, dumbass!”

Grumbling, Baekhyun orders a Caramel Macchiato with _extra_ caramel, _oh, and some vanilla, too,_ and Jongdae tacks on his usual Vanilla Latte and a muffin for them to split. The pretty barista giggles at their antics and smiles brightly at Baekhyun. Her nametag says _Seulgi_ and he waves at her before bumping Jongdae out of the way, paying and then letting himself be dragged down the counter to wait for their order. Jongdae rambles about a trip he and Junmyeon are taking together soon, hand under Baekhyun’s shirt, rubbing up and down his back, while Baekhyun’s gaze and attention rest on the stranger in the corner, the stranger in the corner who owns this cute little coffee shop with the intriguing, abstract paintings.

When their order is in their hands and Baekhyun suggests they go back to Jongdae’s place, Jongdae frowns. “Don’t you wanna-”

“No.” Baekhyun grins. “Not today, at least.”

“Oh, Baekhyunnie, don’t turn into a stalker!”

Baekhyun shoves him, linking their arms when Jongdae bounces back, and casts one last glance over their shoulders, meeting eyes with the mystery man one more time.

Jongdae teases him the entire walk back about how well Baekhyun’s plan went.

\----

He wanders back into the coffeeshop a few days later by complete accident.

He’s been up since five in the morning working on an impossible article--the kind that makes him wish he’d never become a freelance writer in the first place--and it’s now four in the afternoon and all he has to show for it is a half-assed completed essay and the last cup of instant coffee in his house to get him through it, which is about five times _less_ than his usual intake.

So he stumbles through the streets of their humble hometown, thanking whatever gods there might be for having Lia purchase a home--and then leaving said home to him--within walking distance of the nearest Starbucks--nevermind that it wasn’t built when she bought the home but _still--_ because he is dead on his feet and dog-fucking-tired and has to meet Minseok for dinner at their favorite grill in less than two hours.

He’s a sweet, sweet couple of blocks away from his quadruple shot cup of sugar when he stops dead in his tracks, an odd tingling at the back of his neck, hairs standing on end.

Squeezing his eyes shut, taking the deepest breath he can, Baekhyun pinches his arm, wincing at the severity of it but still opening his eyes hopefully, too hopefully. 

He swallows, because the feeling is still there.

It’s all too familiar, the paranoia of being watched, followed, hunted. But his instinct isn’t _always_ right. Maybe nine out of ten times, it’s right? So this could be that one in ten chance. Baekhyun is so exhausted, mentally, physically drained, which could easily dredge up unwarranted paranoia, his brain’s way of reminding him it’s already been a few years since the last visit…

A glimpse of long, silver hair catches his eye some few hundred feet ahead of him and he bolts through the nearest set of doors, heart pounding, hand on his chest, and he doesn’t open his eyes until he’s taken several deep breaths, trying to get his body under control. Panic drains him quicker than anything and he’d really love to survive until dinner with Minseok, at the very least.

“Are you okay?”

Baekhyun blearily blinks up at a lady standing in front of him, eyebrows drawn together and a hand on his shoulder. He struggles to swallow over his dry throat and shakily nods his head. “Y-Yeah, just thought I saw someone…”

 

He peers over his shoulder nervously, aware that he’s standing right in front of a glass window, but it’s just in time to see a woman in her mid-twenties, maybe, pass by, long, silver hair flowing in the wind behind her. Baekhyun sags in unending relief, hand falling from his chest.

“Should I call the police?” the lady asks uncertainly.

Baekhyun glances around as he shakes his head, recognizing the abstract paintings on the walls immediately. _Shit._ “N-No,” he murmurs, gaze falling on a pair of round, dark eyes in the same corner as last time. He’s less angry this time around, curiosity apparently enough to overcome it. “Sorry.” Baekhyun focuses back on the concerned lady. “It was a false alarm, I think. I’m fine.”

The lady nods and goes back to her table, the closest one to Baekhyun, still eyeing him warily. He smiles as warmly as he can manage at her and beelines for the counter, immediately ordering _two_ large sugary coffees and accidentally tipping the same pretty barista from before, Seulgi, ten bucks in his haste to move to the end of the counter and fiddle with the napkins and sugar packets. His heart rate is hardly back to normal yet and he feels so weak, but he hopes the caffeine will give him enough of a boost to last him until dinner.

When his drinks are handed to him, he downs one as quickly as he can, not even bothering to move away from the counter. The coffee burns his throat but soothes the burn of panic simultaneously, and he blinks away the water his eyes conjure as he tosses the cup in the trash.

There aren’t near as many people in the shop today, plenty of empty tables, but Baekhyun throws every inhibition he has out the window and heads straight for the table with the pretty stranger instead.

“Is this seat taken?” he asks, motioning to the chair across from the gloved man.

“No,” the stranger mutters automatically, but then he blinks up at Baekhyun, expression quickly shifting into a glare. _”Yes.”_

Baekhyun giggles, though the sound is foreign in the aftermath of his panic. “Well, which is it?” But he sits down before the man can answer, earning him an even nastier glare.

“There’s an empty table over there.”

“There are lots of empty tables.” Baekhyun shrugs. “But I don’t like sitting alone.”

The man mutters something about insufferable strangers and Baekhyun smiles.

“I’m Baekhyun.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t have one.”

Baekhyun sighs, but a smile tugs at his lips nevertheless as he slumps back in his chair. This stranger has nice eyelashes, Baekhyun notices. It’s hard not to, with how the man is staring down at his lap; it’s a moment before Baekhyun realizes he’s writing something, or maybe drawing.

He lets the silence linger, despite every particle of his being screaming at him to talk, distract, talk, don’t think about silver hair and panic attacks.

Baekhyun is absorbed in his social media feed on his phone when the stranger suddenly speaks again. “What happened to your arm?”

Baekhyun glances up, surprised, then follows the man’s stare to see a purpling bruise just above the joint of his elbow. His eyes flutter at the table, an overwhelming sense of panic overcoming him for just one moment. He glances over his shoulder just to make sure. “I pinched myself,” he murmurs when he turns back around. “To make sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

The stranger seems to consider this, also glancing over Baekhyun’s shoulder, then quietly says, “I’m Kyungsoo.”

\----

Dinner with Minseok is delayed half an hour after Baekhyun shows up at his house and refuses to uncurl himself from Minseok’s lap until he feels like himself again, although it all seems to be for naught when they get to the restaurant and the first thing Minseok says after placing their drink order is, “Dad thinks your father is in town again,” He links his ankles with Baekhyun’s under the table between them. The restaurant is dim and noisy around them, crowded; the perfect place to talk.

Baekhyun is hit suddenly with that pang of panic from earlier. So much for that one in ten chance that his instincts were wrong. He sighs, slumping low on his bench but careful not to jostle the skin contact under the table. Dread floods his gut. “Are there any victims?”

“One.” Minseok reaches over and brushes hair from Baekhyun’s eyes. “You should come stay with us while he’s around. Dad’ll put up wards like he usually does.”

“Uncle Minjung will also go out hunting for him like he usually does. It’s… it’s best I just stay away from you guys. I can’t let you guys get hurt.” Baekhyun blinks the sting of tears away as he stares down at his hands. His father. An Incubus. A demon who keeps his life by draining the life from people when he has sex with them. Baekhyun’s mother was the only exception, as far as he knows. His father, Youngshik, comes around every few years; the intent isn’t clear. Baekhyun thinks he just wants to taunt him, mostly. Because every single time he comes to town, Baekhyun’s face is glued to the news, watching the body count rise, bloody crescents forming on his hands where his nails dig too hard into his skin. That’s usually about when Yixing finds him, every time, as if he can sense the blood on Baekhyun’s hands and the tears in his eyes. 

That body count rises because of Baekhyun, because of Baekhyun’s biological father.

Lia raised Baekhyun with Minjung’s help, though Minjung had his own son to care for, and Baekhyun had the happiest childhood he could imagine, full of love, family, and friendship with his favorite Minseok. But on his fifth birthday, a mysterious man showed up at Lia’s door, with long, silver hair and Baekhyun’s eyes and mouth, demanding to see his _son,_ and Minseok, only eight years old at the time, grabbed Baekhyun and ran until they were locked in the bathroom, and then in the bathroom closet. Muffled yelling only barely reached them while Baekhyun cried into Minseok’s shirt, confused and scared and completely clueless to what was happening. He fell asleep before they got out. Lia said they were in there for hours, because despite their reassurances, Minseok wasn’t sure if it was actually safe to come out.

Baekhyun never forgot his face, which probably saved his life when he was eight and on the playground with Minseok and their new friend Yixing. Baekhyun saw the long, silver hair first, then the sly smile as the man took a step forward… and Baekhyun screamed. A blood-curdling, high-pitched scream that scratched his throat until it felt like it was bleeding with the strain, pointing so Minseok could see, too. Minseok cursed, a funny thing coming from an eleven year old, and grabbed Baekhyun and Yixing by the hands, rushing to meet Lia and Minjung halfway, who had come running from across the yard.

Tears fell from Baekhyun’s eyes from fear and pain as he was hurriedly strapped into Lia’s van and Minseok ushered Yixing inside, who climbed over Baekhyun and buckled his own seatbelt, alarmed eyes on Baekhyun the whole time, so calm in this storm for a nine year old.

Baekhyun looked back as Minjung hit the gas pedal, to the spot his father had been, but he was gone.

Yixing gently stole his attention by grabbing his hand, then resting a hand on his neck. Like magic, the pain in Baekhyun’s throat slowly disappeared, and with it went his tears, replaced by a quiet bewilderment. Yixing merely smiled, and didn’t let go of his hand for the rest of the day.

Since then, it’s always been the same. Youngshik comes back every few years, tries to get to Baekhyun, and kills a few innocent people along the way.

“Besides,” Baekhyun murmurs. “If Uncle puts up wards, Yixing won’t be able to get in either.” Wards keep out any form of Supernatural, good or bad.

Minseok sighs. “Maybe he can stay with us too. Maybe everyone can. The more, the merrier, right?”

“No.” Because Wards also keep Supernaturals _in._ “I’m not going to let Yixing be trapped for fuck knows how long just because nobody thinks I can protect myself.” Baekhyun himself wouldn’t even be trapped, since Wards seem to recognize him as human. He can’t do that to Yixing, to Yixing’s life.

“Baekhyun…” Minseok rests a hand on top of Baekhyun’s fidgeting ones. “Baekhyunnie, there’s a difference between thinking you can’t protect yourself and just wanting to keep you safe.”

“Keeping me safe takes over your entire life. It’s not fair to any of you.”

“It’s our choice-”

“It’s your obligation! You’ve been taking care of me since I was a baby, Minseok-”

Minseok pinches his hand, and Baekhyun whimpers, drawing it away to hold against his chest. When he puts it back on the table, his other hand fingers at the bruise on his arm that he gave himself earlier in the day. Minseok eyes it with a frown. “I’ve had every opportunity to leave town, and I haven't. Because everything I need is here. My dad, Yixing, _you._ I don't want to leave you behind, Baekhyunnie.”

Baekhyun drops his head with a sigh, closing his eyes. It’s useless fighting this fight. No matter how much he insists his friends live their lives, they're always two steps away to take care of him. He’s so grateful, he really is, but he just feels like such a burden; it’s a feeling he can’t shake lately. “Thanks, Minseok,” he murmurs, lacing his fingers with Minseok’s when Minseok prompts him to. 

“I’m here for you. We all are. And if your father really is back, we’ll take care of it, just like we always do.”

Later, when they get back to Minseok’s house, Yixing is waiting for them in the living room to greet Baekhyun with a soft kiss and a tight hug. 

Only then does he let out a few tears, face tucked into the crook of Yixing’s neck. Yixing just kisses his head and holds him close before leading him over to the couch and letting Baekhyun curl up on his lap, just like he had with Minseok before dinner. 

Yixing touches the bruise that Baekhyun knows is already fading. “What happened?”

“Pinched myself. On the way to coffee.” His voice is barely above a whisper and despite Yixing’s warmth flowing through his veins, he doesn't think he has the energy to talk at all.

Minseok sits next to them, running his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair and Yixing sighs, bundling Baekhyun closer. “You knew he was back, didn’t you?” Yixing murmurs.

“Had a feeling. The feeling.”

“Why didn't you call someone?” Minseok asks fiercely enough to make Baekhyun flinch. He feels Yixing shake his head, probably reprimanding Minseok for it.

Baekhyun nuzzles a little more comfortably against Yixing’s neck. “Hoped it was a false alarm.” The room sighs in unison so Baekhyun swallows and reaches up to tap Yixing’s cheek. “Remember the guy that ran into me?”

“Your soulmate?” Yixing teases.

Baekhyun hums an affirmation. “His name is Kyungsoo.”

“What, did you online stalk him?” Minseok asks.

“Accidentally took refuge in his coffeeshop.” Baekhyun makes a quiet noise akin to a whimper. “I’m tired, Yixing.”

“Let’s go to bed, then,” Yixing murmurs. 

Baekhyun shakes his head, but he really doesn't have much fight in him, thinks he might be losing consciousness already. “Go home,” he tries.

“I’m not leaving you when you’re like this, Baekhyunnie. I’m not leaving your side.”

Baekhyun’s eyes squeeze shut. “Stubborn.”

“Takes one to know one.” And with Minseok’s help, they get Baekhyun to the guest bedroom and carefully deposit him into bed so Yixing can climb in with him.

Baekhyun falls asleep staring at the suitcase and backpack that clearly belong to Yixing, dread heavy in his gut.

\----

Early the next morning, everyone–Baekhyun, Yixing, Yifan, Jongdae, Junmyeon–sits in the living room and watches while Minseok helps his father cast a Ward to protect the entire house from the supernatural. And to keep the supernatural in.

Baekhyun stares at Yixing next to him with watery eyes instead, lip trembling. “Yixing, please.”

But Yixing just smiles and gently cups Baekhyun’s face. “This doesn't hurt me or mess up my life, Baekhyun. I want to make sure you’re safe.”

Jongdae squeezes Baekhyun’s knee from his other side and Baekhyun just shakes his head, staring down at his lap instead. “It’s his choice, kid,” Minjung says from across the room.

Baekhyun hates this so much.

\----

He spends the next few days drowning himself in work, picking up as many minor assignments as he can to keep his brain and hands occupied while various members of his friend group cling to his back or distract him with random affection, or in Jongdae’s case, drag him into bed with him and Junmyeon.

By day five, Baekhyun feels _too_ healthy, but most of all restless. He’s getting cabin fever that gets worse by the hour and doesn't know how much longer he can last.

“You know you can get out of the house once in a while, right?” Yixing murmurs into his ear early in the morning, beautiful in all of his sleep-ruffled glory as he curls into Baekhyun’s side. Baekhyun’s been staring at the ceiling for at least an hour, lost.

He turns until he’s nose to nose with Yixing, and Yifan hums in his sleep as he adjusts himself too and tosses an arm around both of them. “I don't need a break.” He does, he really does, but if Yixing is stuck here, Baekhyun will be too.

“Yes you do.” Yixing leans forward to gently kiss him. “You’re going crazy being stuck in one place. You haven't stopped fidgeting for at least the last 24 hours.”

Baekhyun sighs, picking at the sleeve of Yifan’s shirt. 

“Go out,” Yixing insists. “Yifan can take you for coffee at the very least.”

“‘M gonna need it if you two keep talking while I'm trying to sleep,” Yifan mumbles.

They giggle, but then Baekhyun shakes his head. “I want _you_ to take me out for coffee, Yixing.”

“Baekhyun.” Yixing kisses him again. “I’m okay here, really. Stop trapping yourself here because of me. I don’t feel trapped at all. You’re stressing yourself out for nothing.”

Baekhyun grumbles unintelligibly but cries out when Yifan’s giant hand grasps his head and shakes it a bit. “Stop being stubborn, Baekhyun. We’re going for coffee and you’re paying.”

“Aigoo, everyone wants me to pay for their coffee lately.” But he sighs and shoves Yifan’s hand away. “Fine, but I get to choose where we go.”

\----

Walking into The Coffee Bean is an unexpected familiarity that Baekhyun hadn’t realized he’s missed nearly as much as his odd acquaintance who owns it, but perhaps anything would have felt this homey after being cooped up for more than four days. 

There’s no one in line so they move straight to the counter and Baekhyun tells Yifan what he’s tried here and that it’s all been delicious so far. They wait at the end of the counter, Yifan’s hand resting on Baekhyun’s shoulder, while Baekhyun leans into him and starts pointing out paintings on the walls that claimed his attention last time he was in here. Yixing helps artists sell their art, has since they were teenagers, so Yifan and Baekhyun both have taken an interest in art since then. 

Baekhyun doesn’t know why he purposely avoids looking at the table he knows Kyungsoo is sitting at until they have their order, but it’s worth it when he locks eyes with the mystery man, because Kyungsoo quickly averts his gaze to his lap as if he’d just been caught _staring._ Baekhyun grins, glee evident before he drags Yifan over there and plops right down into the chair diagonally from Kyungsoo. Yifan only sits because Baekhyun drags him down. “There’s an empty table right there, Baekhyun…” Yifan glances behind them uncertainly, but Baekhyun rests his chin in his hand and smiles at Kyungsoo.

“This is Kyungsoo,” he says. “We’re close.”

“We’re not.” Kyungsoo glances up at Yifan as if to solidify his point.

Yifan snorts. “Stop drooling, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun yelps, quickly sitting up and wiping at his mouth, which is _dry thank you very much._ “I’m not!” He shoves at Yifan’s arm and slumps so he can hide behind his tall cup of coffee, but when he peeks, Kyungsoo is watching him with a quirked brow and twitching mouth and Baekhyun feels his own lips pull into a soft smile. It’s the first real expression Baekhyun has seen on his face since they met and Kyungsoo is just so… handsome. 

“I’m Wu Yifan.” Baekhyun blinks when Kyungsoo breaks eye contact and tries not to frown. Kyungsoo hardly gives him the time of day, but Baekhyun already feels like a child with a schoolyard crush. Maybe the weird pull-connection-thingy that he felt when they touched is only one-sided? They didn't talk much last time Baekhyun invaded Kyungsoo’s table, but it still went surprisingly well. Baekhyun spent most of his time observing the paintings closest to them to calm himself down, commenting aloud every now and then to fill the silence between them. But by the end of it, Kyungsoo was actually listening to him, expression just a little less guarded, and Baekhyun had considered it a success. 

His eyes stay trained on Kyungsoo’s face while he quietly introduces himself to Yifan, and Baekhyun thinks it would be a shame to not know what he felt that first day they bumped into each other. Even if they aren't soulmates, Baekhyun has to know what the feeling meant.

And he watches, amazed, mesmerized, because Kyungsoo actually holds a conversation with Yifan, he even _smiles,_ and Yifan keeps glancing at Baekhyun like he’s crazy and it's probably because Baekhyun is ogling and not saying anything at all but he can’t help it! Kyungsoo’s voice is like… honey. No, _molasses._ He mentally pats himself on the back for the proper comparison, and physically pinches himself because he’s being fucking _delusional._

After a few minutes of Baekhyun being, admittedly uncharacteristically, quiet, Yifan excuses himself to the restroom, which Kyungsoo points out is through the door adjacent to the staircase.

“What’s up there?” Baekhyun asks. He hadn't even noticed it the last two times he was in.

“My apartment,” Kyungsoo answers, and it's decidedly less friendly than he sounded speaking to Yifan which makes Baekhyun a little… sad.

But he perseveres, smiling and saying, “That’s cool! It must be nice to never be late to work. That’s why I like what I do so much. Sure, I have deadlines, but I can wake up and go to work in my boxers and no one will ever know.”

Kyungsoo snorts, nods, but otherwise doesn't respond, looking down at his lap and picking up a pencil.

Does Baekhyun make Kyungsoo nervous? He huffs and blurts out, “Can I buy you coffee sometime?”

Clearly startled, Kyungsoo stares at him with round eyes, but he recovers quickly, which makes one of them. Baekhyun is trying not to die in his seat. “Why would you buy me coffee when I own a coffee shop?”

Cheeks burning, Baekhyun laughs. “I could buy you coffee from a different coffee shop, you know, help you scope out the competition.” His legs stretch out in his nervousness and his feet nudge Kyungsoo’s. Kyungsoo draws away so quickly his whole body reflects the action, and Baekhyun shrinks. “Sorry. I’m a little fidgety.” But he didn't feel anything this time, when they touched. Why didn't he feel anything? 

“I’ve noticed.”

“So…” Baekhyun bites his lip. “Can I?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh.” 

A moment passes of Baekhyun slumped in his seat and then, “...Ask me another time.”

Baekhyun perks up. “Really?”

Kyungsoo stares back down at his lap. “Don’t push your luck.”

\----

“How are things going with Kyungsoo?” Yixing murmurs into his neck. They're the only ones in the house at the moment–everyone either at work or out drinking together–and Baekhyun is curled up comfortably in Yixing’s arms on the couch, back pressed to chest where they lay. There’s an action film on the TV but Baekhyun has spent more time playing with Yixing’s hands, resting them on his face, kissing them, than paying attention. But this conversation topic raises an ear, so to speak.

“Well, I think.” Baekhyun smiles softly. “I like him.” It’s been a few weeks since Baekhyun accidentally asked Kyungsoo out, but Kyungsoo will actually hold conversations with him now, albeit short ones, but Baekhyun still considers it a major success.

Yixing huffs out an amused breath that makes Baekhyun twitch the second the air hits his neck. “Of course you do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?” Baekhyun kicks his heel back until he hits some part of Yixing’s leg, but there’s no real heat behind it. Yixing just laughs, so Baekhyun continues, “He’s opened up more. You know, he seems older than me, but he’s actually younger? He’s 23.”

“And owns a successful coffee shop? Impressive.”

Baekhyun hums in agreement. “It was passed down to him. But that’s… all I really know. Mentions of family seem to make him really sad, so I changed the subject.” It was like Baekhyun could see Kyungsoo physically shutting down when Baekhyun pressed too much; it was enough to make him feel sick. He doesn't know why he would ask about family when he doesn't want to talk about his own. He just got so lost staring at the cute freckles on Kyungsoo’s nose and was trying to simultaneously not let the conversation die that he didn’t think. 

“Ah.” Baekhyun can hear the frown in Yixing’s voice, but then his tone shifts to teasing as he asks, “What about your soulmate bond?”

Sighing, Baekhyun shakes his head. “I’ve accidentally touched him like three times now, but I haven't felt anything.”

“Accidentally?” Yixing sounds disbelieving, which, okay, is fair.

“Accidentally. It obviously makes him uncomfortable but sometimes it’s a reflex. Sometimes I reach out without realizing and don't even catch on until he’s literally flinching away from me.” Whining under his breath, Baekhyun squirms and scoots until he’s turned over and facing Yixing. “Am I that repulsive?”

Yixing shakes his head, smiling as he leans forward to kiss Baekhyun’s nose. “You’re adorable.”

“You have to say that,” Baekhyun petulantly says. “You’re my best friend.” But the smile grows on his lips anyway because it never takes much for Yixing to make him feel better. 

Yixing just kisses his nose again. “Doesn't mean it isn’t true.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Baekhyun huffs this time, purposely aiming at Yixing’s neck just to watch him squirm, earning a playful shove.

When they’re done being children for a few moments, Yixing levels himself so they’re nose to nose. “Be careful, okay?”

“I am.”

Yixing shakes his head. “I’m serious. I felt that feeling too, remember? It felt like your life was draining. He could be dangerous. A Diminisher, maybe.”

Someone, usually Evil with a capital E, who can drain the life of someone with their touch alone. They don’t need it to keep themselves alive, like a Succubus or Incubus; it is purely a weapon. “Kyungsoo, a Diminisher?” It’s _unfathomable._ “I know you haven’t really met him like the others have now, but he’s not bad. He’s just… quiet. And lonely, I think.”

“It could be a trap,” Yixing whispers, not because he needs to be quiet, but because he’s worried; Baekhyun can see it in his eyes.

But Baekhyun is nothing if not stubborn and he’s spent enough time around Kyungsoo to _know_ he’s not bad. Baekhyun knows bad, and Kyungsoo isn’t it, damnit. “It’s not a trap.” He turns back around in Yixing’s arms, lips set in a firm line. “We’re missing the movie.”

\----

Time passes slowly at home, but quickly when Baekhyun is away, and he wishes and wishes those things would switch places, that time would reverse, _something,_ because the more time Baekhyun spends with Kyungsoo, the less he wants to spend _away_ from him, and Youngshik is making it very hard for Baekhyun to feel safe in public.

Baekhyun’s skin crawls every time he steps foot out of the house, he glances over his shoulder every five minutes when he’s sitting in the coffeeshop with Kyungsoo, and when Baekhyun actually catches glimpses of Youngshik, he stays in the house for days. And then he returns to the coffee shop as if he was never absent from his daily visits and Kyungsoo carefully pretends not to be curious, Baekhyun thinks.

“That’s…” Kyungsoo clears his throat behind Baekhyun, startling him from his daze. Kyungsoo hadn’t been at his table when Baekhyun arrived five minutes ago, so he was doing his best to keep his mind occupied. “That’s one of my favorites.”

Baekhyun smiles, turning back to the painting he’s been staring at since he walked in. It’s darker than the other paintings in the shop, in color and in mood, but it feels more real than the rest. It’s abstract, like the others, the theme, but Baekhyun can see a lone person in the midst of grays and blacks and blues. It’s relatable in a way Baekhyun can’t really put into words, something that speaks to his inherent loneliness despite being surrounded by people who love him. “Really?” he says. “It’s mine, too. It always catches my attention when I come in here. I just… there are no artists listed. For any of these paintings.” Though he’s sure they’re all from the same artist, but still. It’s bugged him since he started coming here. He wants to ask Yixing if he’s ever heard of this artist so badly.

“Oh, because-” Kyungsoo is nibbling on his bottom lip when Baekhyun looks at him, until he more quietly continues, “Because they’re all mine.”

Baekhyun feels his lips form an ‘o’, eyes trained on Kyungsoo’s face. “No way!”

And Kyungsoo offers the sweetest, small smile, reaching out a gloved finger to the painting, slowly tracing along what Baekhyun now sees is a very subtly, very well blended _dks_ in the bottom left corner of the canvas.

“Do Kyungsoo,” he whispers, and moves to let his finger follow Kyungsoo’s, but Kyungsoo drops his hand, so Baekhyun does too.

"I didn't know you're an artist," Baekhyun says in lieu of showing his embarrassment, or disappointment. There’s never been less than a table’s space between them. His faint nose freckles are even cuter like this, blending with the blush on his cheeks. And Baekhyun suddenly remembers seeing this blush that first day he took over Kyungsoo’s table, as Baekhyun rambled and rambled about everything he liked about the paints around them. _Oh._

"There's a lot you don't know about me." Kyungsoo's voice is so quiet, Baekhyun would have to strain to hear it if he wasn't already accustomed to doing so. Their eyes meet for a lingering moment, but it's actually Baekhyun that breaks his gaze, cheeks warm. 

Kyungsoo is... so attractive it hurts. And he's not even _trying._ Baekhyun spends 30 minutes a day on his hair just to make it look perfectly _messy._ And don't even get him started on his skincare routine, or the makeup he perfectly blends to make it look like he isn't wearing any at all, or the- 

"Why are you here, Baekhyun?"

The warmth that spreads in Baekhyun's tummy from hearing Kyungsoo say his name is dangerous, but he grins and offers the prettiest flutter of his lashes he can offer. "To get to know my favorite artist."

Kyungsoo huffs. "I'm not your favorite artist."

"Fine," Baekhyun concedes. "My favorite local artist then."

"That's..." Kyungsoo stares at him. "You're serious?"

Baekhyun's grin softens. "Yeah, actually." He reaches out again to actually trace the subtle 'dks' on the corner of the painting. "If I'm not staring at you, I'm staring at these."

Kyungsoo sighs. "Stop that.”

"Stop what?" Baekhyun frowns, finger on the painting freezing in place.

"Flirting."

Baekhyun's finger continues it's trek. "I'm not." He is, but flirting comes as easily as breathing to him. Sometimes he does it without realizing it, just like with touching. "Sorry," he amends. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“A little.”

Baekhyun really frowns this time, casting worried eyes on the other man. “I’m sorry. It- Sometimes I can’t help it, the flirting. I can go-”

“-Sometimes it’s- not so bad.”

“Oh?” Baekhyun ignores the hope filling his gut.

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “I mean, sometimes you’re not so bad. I guess. The flirting is obnoxious.”

Baekhyun giggles before cupping his own face with his hands, always ready to overdramatically preen. “Aww, Do Kyungsoo! You think I’m not so bad!”

Kyungsoo seems to know that Baekhyun’s next typical move would be to cling, and steps away accordingly, but he’s fighting a smile, so Baekhyun doesn't consider it a total loss.

Clearing his throat, Baekhyun holds his hands behind his back. The need to touch is too much. He’s already a little weak, has spent the past few days sending his friends away after they walk him to the coffee shop so that he can be in Kyungsoo’s presence alone, and all of his free time outside of that has been spent working on articles he’s picked up. He falls asleep on Minjung and Minseok’s couch more often than not lately because of it. Yesterday morning, Baekhyun woke up to Yixing sitting on the floor and stroking his face, but this morning, Yixing was still asleep when Baekhyun left, and Jongdae and Junmyeon were being a couple while Baekhyun hurried ahead, desperate for his time with Kyungsoo, away from the house where Yixing is trapped because of Baekhyun.

He has to latch onto as many distractions as possible, because another body was found, drained of life a week ago. Another victim of Youngshik.

“Are you working on anything new?” Baekhyun asks, blinking away any thought of his father as quickly as he can.

“Hm? Oh. Yes.” Kyungsoo glances from Baekhyun to the painting next to them to the floor. “I’m always working on something new.”

Baekhyun tilts his head. “Always? When do you sleep?” He giggles and watches Kyungsoo roll his eyes, though he still doesn’t look up from the floor.

He does glance behind them however, before turning and walking the short distance across the shop, to his usual table, and Baekhyun is helpless as he follows, chewing on his lip and concentrating on _not_ staring at Kyungsoo’s butt that he’s seeing--not seeing!--for the first time in all it’s fitted, khaki glory.

But when they reach the table, Kyungsoo picks up from the chair a notebook, and the pencil Baekhyun can usually see. “I sketch when I’m out here. I sketch portraits, usually of customers or people I knew, and fill them in with color pencils later. Everything I paint ends up abstract.”

Baekhyun smirks, playful. “Portraits of customers? Got any portraits of me?” He stands on his toes and makes a show of peeking at Kyungsoo’s notebook even though it’s closed.

Kyungsoo hugs it to his chest. “No.”

“No?!” Baekhyun cries out, falling back to the heels of his feet. “But I’m your best customer.” He bats his eyelashes for emphasis, even though Kyungsoo is the only person in the world immune to it. Maybe one day it will work.

“Karen is my best customer.” Kyungsoo points her out, sitting at a table near the door, and she waves as if she can hear everything they’ve said. Kyungsoo offers a friendly smile and small wave back, then pointedly raises an eyebrow at Baekhyun, who pouts, hands behind his back again.

“But I come in almost every day,” he whines.

“So does she. And she doesn’t invade my table every day and talk my ear off.”

Baekhyun scoffs, a smile tugging at his lips. “I’m not believing anything negative you say about me ever again! Just a minute ago you said I’m _not that bad.”_

“Hardly a compliment.”

“But a _compliment_ nonetheless!” Baekhyun grins triumphantly and turns on his heel, making his way to the nearest painting.

He doesn’t quite expect Kyungsoo to follow him, but the surprise is nothing but pleasant. “What are you doing?” the man asks.

“I wanna find the hidden ‘dks’ in all of your paintings.”

“It’s not a game,” Kyungsoo mutters.

Baekhyun winks at him. “Of course it is. So what do I get if I win?”

“To go home with all of your limbs intact?”

Laughing, Baekhyun shakes his head. “Not good enough. Could I… see something you’re working on? A portrait or a painting?” He halts at Kyungsoo’s stunned expression. “Only if that’s-! Only if that’s something you’d be comfortable with. I’m sorry. I know some artists don’t like anyone to see an unfinished piece. Ahh, I’m a mess.”

“Is this just a way to get into my apartment or something?”

Baekhyun frowns. “What?”

“I can’t-” Kyungsoo lowers his voice and his gaze. “I can’t be one of your… boyfriends. Even if I was okay with- I can’t be anyone’s boyfriend. I’m just… not cut out f-”

“Oh my god.” Baekhyun bursts out laughing, bracing himself against the wall. “Oh my god. I’m- I can’t- I’m sorry! I’m not laughing at you! I’m l-laughing at myself because I’m an idiot. Of course you think I’m dating them- oh my god.”

Kyungsoo stares, stunned again. “Why is this funny.”

“I’m sorry! I’m s-” Baekhyun clears his throat and takes a deep breath, still giggling. “I’m lonely as fuck. They’re just my best friends. We’re close, obviously, but they’re all dating each other, not me!”

“Dating… each other?”

Baekhyun nods. “Yixing and Yifan. Jongdae and Junmyeon. Minseok is the only single one, but he doesn’t care for romantic relationships. And then there’s me.” He feels his expression drop so he looks away. He’s been stuck on this loop lately. Stuck on the negatives in his life, especially the loneliness.

After a stretch of silence, Kyungsoo sighs. “I guess I could show you my most recent painting. If you’re really not trying anything.”

“Nope,” Baekhyun says softly, shaking his head. “I just like art.” _And you._

It takes Baekhyun a while--long enough to warrant buying a coffee before finishing--to find the hidden initials in every single painting in the shop, except for the one behind the counter. He whispers to Seulgi for help, but she merely winks and doesn’t answer, and after a solid fifteen minutes of searching, he goes back to Kyungsoo’s table. “That one doesn’t have your signature,” he says, sitting down.

“Really?” Kyungsoo asks, feigning interest and still drawing in his notebook.

“Really. You tried to trick me.” Baekhyun crosses his arms. “I thought I was going to lose!”

Kyungsoo stares up at him. “What if you did lose?”

 _“Kyungsoo!_ There’s no signature in that painting, I’m sure of it!”

Air pushes through Kyungsoo’s nose, an airy, amused chuckle with the tiny smile to match. “Fine. You win.”

Baekhyun immediately causes a scene, pumping his fist in the air and cheering, and only preens when Kyungsoo rolls his eyes.

“Really though, Baekhyun. I’m really tired, so I’ll show you a painting and then you should probably go.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Baekhyun salutes, smile wide and dread deep. He was hoping to spend at least another hour here, then go for lunch with Jongdae and Junmyeon, and then grocery shopping for everyone at the house. He figured that would kill enough of his day, so that he could just go back and work until he falls asleep again until tomorrow. Rinse. Repeat.

Quietly trekking up the stairs is like stepping into an alternate universe; it’s a little too surreal that Kyungsoo trusts Baekhyun enough to let him into his apartment, even if only for a few minutes. It’s a long way from Kyungsoo seemingly hating him for no reason.

The apartment itself is neat, open. From the top of the stairs, Baekhyun can see the living room right in front of him, and the kitchen to the left. A dark, sliding screen stretches across what must be the width of the bedroom, blocking it and anything else behind it from sight. Baekhyun smiles a little as he steps inside, because it’s truly an artists’ studio in every way. Paintings line the walls, darker paintings like Baekhyun’s favorite down in the shop, which makes it clear the bright colors in the rest of them are just for show.

The living room has a couch and a TV, but has been turned into a working station with paint splattered sheets covering the couch and floor, and a wooden easel with a half-finished painting sitting in the middle of it all.

“Is this it?” Baekhyun asks, smiling as he moves closer to it, hesitant only until Kyungsoo beats him there.

Kyungsoo nods. “This is it.”

Baekhyun lets his eyes trace over every visible line, every curve of the paint before he says anything. “You’re using yellow in this one.” Other than the yellow, it uses the same darker tones that the apartment paintings use. It stands out, yellow amongst the gray and black just nearly taking the form of a person. He turns to Kyungsoo. “Why?”

“Yellow is… it symbolizes hope. Usually.” Kyungsoo squints his eyes as he gently rubs a gloved thumb across what could be the yellow head of a person, as if he’s smoothing a smudge or wrinkle despite the paint being dry.

“Hope,” Baekhyun repeats quietly. He supposes his own personal color wheel would be dripping in red. He’s not sure what real hope is to him anymore.

Nodding, Kyungsoo’s hand falls back to his side. “Hope that maybe… not everyone in this world is bad.”

“They’re not,” Baekhyun murmurs. He wants to reach for Kyungsoo’s hand more than anything else in this moment. “You just have to hold on tight when you find the good ones.”

But Kyungsoo’s expression only saddens. “Baekhyun…”

Shaking his head, because Baekhyun really can’t handle any form of rejection today, he smiles and plops himself onto the couch, propping his head in his hand and offering a playfully sultry stare. “Paint me like one of your French girls, Jack.”

“Tch.” Kyungsoo picks up a pillow from the ground and flings it at him. “Get out.”

“Wait, wait!” Baekhyun laughs and hugs the pillow to his chest. “You said I have a few minutes! I have a question!”

Kyungsoo glares. “One question.”

“One!”

But just as they maybe both predicted, one question turns into many, an endless stream of inquiries about Kyungsoo’s supplies, his inspirations, his favorite artists. Time passes blindly until they’re making each other yawn every other minute, Baekhyun curled up on the couch, and Kyungsoo on the floor, head against the table his TV rests on.

They must fall asleep simultaneously, because when Baekhyun blinks awake, Kyungsoo is still propped up against his TV stand, breaths deep and even, serene, and Baekhyun doesn’t think Kyungsoo would’ve let him stay up here this long if it _hadn’t_ happened around the same time.

Baekhyun smiles and rubs the sleep from his eyes as he slowly sits up, but the disorientation still hits him hard. He can only watch until the black dots disappear from his vision and the room stops spinning, sighing once it does. He can usually go longer without the need for affection, but the stress of another body being found is taking its toll on him. Plus he thinks his body got too used to having someone constantly attached to him, so him somewhat avoiding everyone is too sudden of a change.

His phone buzzes in his pocket so he digs it out. They’ve been up here for a couple of hours, according to the time, and Jongdae is texting asking if he’s okay.

He shoots off a quick, _i’m fine. i’ll call you soon_ and re-pockets the phone, gaze falling on Kyungsoo again. He’s so peaceful like this, no hard lines pressed into his forehead, no wall carefully constructed around his emotions. Baekhyun can’t resist tip-toeing over to him and quietly sitting right in front of him.

Kyungsoo is small and soft around the edges, and with his eyebrows relaxed and lips a little more pouty than usual, he actually looks younger than Baekhyun for once. It’s endearing, Baekhyun thinks as he blearily blinks the sleep from his eyes, if only to see Kyungsoo’s handsome face a little more clearly. His hand gently wraps itself around one of Kyungsoo’s gloved ones, sighing at the feeling despite not gaining energy from it. Which, ouch, but is something he expected. 

But he sighs again because he’s not feeling _anything_ from it besides warm and fuzzy I’m In Like With Him feelings. Where is that pull? Where is that spark?

A memory hits him so suddenly it’s like a premonition, grabbing a stranger’s hand to help him up, a hand with _ripped gloves._

Many things happen at once, then. 

Baekhyun reaches out to so _tenderly_ cup Kyungsoo’s cheek, swipe his thumb across it even, and for just one _millisecond_ is triumphant, because there it is! _The Pull._

Only the pull is _strong_ and immediately drains his energy, his life right from his body, making him gasp for air and fall backwards as Kyungsoo bolts upright, crying out Baekhyun’s name.

And then everything fades to black.

\----

_”You should have been more careful.”_

Baekhyun’s brows stitch together in confusion. Even with his eyes still closed, the light is too bright. The voices around him are muddled, like they're underwater, and his ears are ringing.

 _”I was,”_ a low voice insists; it almost sounds like a sob. _“I’m always careful, but I fell asleep. I shouldn't have fallen asleep. I didn’t- I didn’t mean-”_

“‘S’okay,” Baekhyun croaks when he realizes it’s Kyungsoo’s low voice that sounds like it’s crying. “My fault. Not his, Yixing…” His eyes pop open suddenly and he tries to sit up, but the room spins until it’s almost upside down and he falls limply back into Yixing’s arms with a whimper. “What are you doing here? How are you here?” he mutters, pressing his face into Yixing’s neck. He feels the warmth spreading in his veins now, Yixing’s power pulsing through him.

Yixing’s voice is shaky with something like relief as he says, “I made Minseok take down the ward as soon as Kyungsoo called. You think I would just leave you to die?”

Baekhyun hums a whiny protest, but says, “Thanks,” anyway. 

“Baekhyun…” 

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun mimicks. “The room turns upside down if I open my eyes, but I bet you look too sad. It’s not your fault. I knew there was a reason you didn't want me to touch you, but I did it anyway. I’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t apologize,” Kyungsoo pleads. “I never should have invited you up here. I should’ve- I should’ve pushed harder to keep you away from me. I-”

Yixing cuts in. “Let’s… talk about this later. It’s not conducive to his healing.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo whispers, and Baekhyun frowns.

Silence descends upon them, and it’s probably awkward, but Baekhyun focuses on Yixing’s hands roaming his back, on his lips pressing kisses on his forehead and nose and cheeks. After a few moments, he tests opening his eyes again and finds the apartment upright this time, so he sighs and murmurs, “You’re a Diminisher.”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo mutters. 

Yixing was right.

“But I-I’m not the killer!” Kyungsoo suddenly insists.

Baekhyun’s brows furrow as he picks up his head. “What?” Kyungsoo’s eyes are red, eyelashes wet. Baekhyun swallows at the sight.

“The- The bodies that they find every few years,” Kyungsoo whispers. “Drained of life. It’s not me, I swear.”

Dropping his head back against Yixing’s shoulder, Baekhyun sighs and nods. “I know, Kyungsoo.”

“I swear it’s n- what?”

“I know it’s not you because I know who it is.”

“Baekhyun,” Yixing gently warns. 

Kyungsoo’s round eyes widen. “You know who it is? Have you reported them?”

“The police have a sketch. Have for what? A decade now?” Yixing hums affirmatively. “They haven't been able to catch him yet.”

“That’s absurd-”

“That’s my biological father.”

“Your…”

“Yeah.”

“That’s…”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun sighs and carefully turns until his back is pressed against Yixing. “He’s an Incubus. So I’m half-demon, but I… got the short stick. I guess. I can’t really complain, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“You thought I was dating all of my friends because we’re so close, but in reality, their affection keeps me alive. Literally. My life drains, just like an Incubus, but there's no sex or death involved. Luckily. They get tired if my health is too low, but other than that it doesn't negatively affect them.”

“That’s… nice.” Kyungsoo looks unsure.

Baekhyun chuckles. “It could be worse.” Then he frowns sympathetically. “It could definitely be worse. But instead I’m just a burden.” 

Yixing squeezes him in a way that’s probably supposed to be malicious, but it just feels nice, instead. “Be quiet,” he says. “How many times do I have to tell you you’re not a burden?”

“Till the day I die probably.” Baekhyun tilts his head up to smile at Yixing, who just ducks down and kisses his forehead.

“Then you’ll be hearing it for a long, long time, got it?”

Baekhyun bites his lip and nods. “Got it.”

When he averts his gaze back to Kyungsoo, the man is hugging his knees to his chest, thinking face on. “How does the affection thing work?” he asks.

Baekhyun hums. “It’s… a state of mind, really. An intent,” he explains. “If someone cares about me, they don’t necessarily have to mean every touch, if that makes sense? They don’t have to physically be like, _okay, here I go with this affectionate touch for Baekhyun!_ because in their mind, with their being, they care about me, and that’s enough for this disease. No one’s touch can help me before they start caring about me, and stops helping if they stop caring about me, I assume.” Kyungsoo nods along with his words, eyebrows furrowed cutely, deep in thought. “I can also receive life, or hints of it, if I touch someone who cares about me. So if I… I don’t know, rub against someone’s neck, or play with their fingers, even though they didn’t initiate it, it still helps.”

“As long as they care about you.”

“Correct.”

Kyungsoo chews on his lips. “Sounds… complicated.”

“I guess.” Baekhyun shrugs. “It’s not really though. Or maybe I’ve just had more than twenty years to come to terms with it.”

“You call it a disease.”

Twiddling his thumbs, Baekhyun shrugs again. “Because it is.”

“It’s just…” Kyungsoo falters, staring down at his open palms. “It’s what I call mine, too.”

Baekhyun nods, more to himself than anything. He gets it, obviously. Clearly his life isn’t as hard as Kyungsoo’s by a long shot, but in the Unwanted Abilities department, Baekhyun gets it.

He hugs Yixing’s arms to himself, nibbling on his lip for a while. Today is a lot to process. “What were you running from that day?” he eventually asks.

“What day?” 

“When you ran into me. The day all of this started, for me.”

Kyungsoo locks eyes with him, as if he desperately wants to understand what that statement means, but he minutely shakes his head and glances down. “The shop was short a barista and we ran out of espresso beans, of all things. My usual shipment came late that week. There’s a market a few blocks from here that we usually go to if that ever happens. Good quality, fresh, organic.” Kyungsoo runs a hand through his hair. “I avoid going out in public as much as I can, but in a situation like that, it’s safer for me to go out, instead of getting behind the counter. Usually.” His eyes flick up to Baekhyun a tad incredulously, and Baekhyun laughs a little, though he doesn’t think the moment quite calls for it. “I actually took a cab there, but… that John guy was there.”

Yixing makes a noise of acknowledgment and Baekhyun says, “The one who accuses everyone of being Supernatural? He’s the worst!”

“Yeah, him.” Kyungsoo frowns. “As soon as I got out, he just started… yelling. About me being a Diminisher, of all things. It was…”

“Soo…” Baekhyun cautiously slides his feet until one is nudging Kyungsoo’s. The latter flinches, but leaves it there. “He just spouts out random shit. Everyone knows that.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head and moves his feet until he and Baekhyun aren’t touching anymore. “Maybe I was paranoid, but some people seemed to really believe him. I just walked away and once I got far enough, started running.”

“Do your employees know?” Yixing asks.

“Seulgi does. She’s the closest thing to a friend I’ve ever had. We sort of grew up together. Her father was a Diminisher. Is. He’s in prison.” Kyungsoo sighs. “The other three think I have a disease involving my hands. I’d rather be honest, but I’m the only one of my kind I know who doesn’t enjoy killing people, so it’s just…”

“It’s safer,” Baekhyun murmurs. “For you, for the coffee shop.”

Kyungsoo nods.

Patting Baekhyun’s stomach, Yixing sighs. “Can you walk, Baek?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he answers. “But…” He doesn’t want to just leave Kyungsoo like this. He wants to talk more, understand more. He wants to make sure Kyungsoo doesn’t feel guilty for what happened.

“I know,” Yixing mutters. “But Jongdae, Junmyeon, and Fan are waiting downstairs. We should get home.”

Baekhyun sits up and turns to look at his friend, cupping his pale cheek and rubbing a thumb along his dark undereyes. Yixing needs rest. “Was I really that…?” _Bad?_ he wants to say, but can’t get the word out.

Yixing’s eyes fall shut as he nods. “Yes. You were- I really thought…”

Turning over as quickly as his position will allow, Baekhyun throws his arms around Yixing’s neck, hugging him as tight as humanly possible. “I’m okay,” he whispers. “You saved me. I’m okay.”

“Don’t fucking do that again,” Yixing cries into his shoulder. “Don’t almost die on me ever again.”

The way Yixing is ripping Baekhyun’s fucking heart out of his chest like this _hurts._ But the way Yixing must feel is probably tenfold. Baekhyun keeps holding him tight, tears welling up in his eyes. “I won’t. I swear I won’t. You- You can’t get rid of me, you know that. You’re stuck with me till the end of time.”

“Good.”

Sniffling, they help each other stand up, and when Baekhyun turns around, Kyungsoo is standing too. “Yixing needs to rest,” Baekhyun murmurs.

Kyungsoo nods. “So do you.”

And Baekhyun nods because, yeah, he’s a little wobbly on his feet after nearly dying. But hesitant, cautious, hopeful, he steps forward and takes one of Kyungsoo’s gloved hands in both of his. Kyungsoo’s fingers stiffen, but Baekhyun smooths them down until they’re tentatively cupping his hand. “This doesn’t hurt me, you know,” he gently says, and when Yixing’s hand squeezes his shoulder, he lets go. “It wasn’t your fault, Kyungsoo. I’ll see you later.”

“Will you?”

Baekhyun smiles, something soft, but genuine. “Definitely.”

Baekhyun and Yixing make the trek downstairs hand in hand, and Baekhyun quietly urges that their friends don’t make a scene when they all jump up from their chairs and the entirety of the shop startles. Baekhyun thinks to catch Seulgi’s gaze behind the counter, who does look considerably like a worried friend, and mouths, _everything’s okay_ before being led out of the shop and quickly ushered into Yifan’s car, squished in the back between Yixing and Jongdae, their hands on him the whole time while the uninformed gush questions about what happened, and grow solemnly grateful when it becomes clear Baekhyun nearly died. And Baekhyun is quick to shut down any ill words directed at Kyungsoo by the time they arrive back at Minjung and Minseok’s house.

But his heart drops through his stomach when he sees the living room window broken, and a flash of long, silver hair escaping around the corner of the house. _”No!”_ he shouts, scrambling to climb over Jongdae when Yifan’s car screeches to a halt. Someone’s cursing, someone’s questioning what’s happening, but Baekhyun’s heart is pounding in his ears and he can’t get the car door open. He yells, something indiscernible. “Unlock the fucking door!” he cries.

Someone pulls on his shirt and he yanks away, but it’s enough time for Jongdae to unclick the lock so Baekhyun can lurch forward and stumble from the car, falling to his hands and knees in the grass. He’s helped to his feet almost immediately by Junmyeon. “Let’s all go together, Baekhyun,” he says, but Baekhyun only sort of hears, pushing forward, pushing forward. Hands latch onto him, trying to slow him down, but he keeps pushing forward. _Minjung and Minseok are okay. They have to be okay._

Jongdae sprints ahead with a key, unlocking the door in time for Baekhyun and Junmyeon to bolt through first, heading down the hall and toward the sound of coughing. _They’re okay, they’re okay, they’re okay. They have to be._

Glass glitters all over the floor but Baekhyun drops to his knees next to Minseok anyway, who’s crouched over Minjung’s body, blood covering the hands that press into Minjung’s abdomen. 

“Minjung,” Baekhyun whimpers, and Yixing drops to the floor on the other side, moving Minseok’s hands out of the way without a word.

Minjung coughs. “Son of a bitch stabbed me.” He squeezes Baekhyun’s hand when Baekhyun grabs it. “I’m fine. Hurts, but I don't think he aimed very well.” He looks at Yixing. “Xing, you look like shit. Yifan can stitch me up, don't worry. It’s not my first tussle with Youngshik.” 

No, no it’s not. Yixing doesn’t budge as Baekhyun’s eyes fall shut. He wants this to end, he wants a cute, innocent Diminisher to be the worst of their problems, he wants Youngshik fucking _gone._ Shaking his head, Baekhyun keeps holding onto Minjung with one hand, and turns to cup Minseok’s face with his other, turning it this way and that. Blood drips down the left side of his face and Baekhyun’s heart aches. “He hit you?”

“I’m fine,” Minseok mumbles. “It’s just dad…”

“I’m fine, too, goofs,” Minjung insists. “Didn’t you hear me? It doesn't even hurt anymore because Yixing is so stubborn.”

Yixing chuckles, though it’s strained. “You can tell he’s fine because he's still running his mouth.”

Pulling Minseok’s head to rest in the crook of his neck, Baekhyun calls Yifan over as he enters the room with a First Aid kit. Baekhyun hadn’t even realized he left. Yifan nods and hurries to crouch down next to them, anxiously glancing at Yixing as he does, and works on cleaning Minseok’s head up, despite the man’s protests.

“Baekhyunnie.” Minjung squeezes his hand. Baekhyun looks at him. “He’s watching us. So closely that he knew the second he saw Yixing out of the house that the ward was down.”

“I know,” Baekhyun whispers. “I can feel him watching me sometimes but I just… I didn’t think.”

“Not your fault,” Yixing whispers, hands trembling as they lift from Minjung’s stomach. The wound is closed, but not quite healed. “I’m sorry-”

Minjung shakes his head. “Stop that. Now I don't even need stitches. You did more than enough. Go get some rest.” 

Yixing nods, thank god, and Junmyeon helps him stand. Baekhyun and Yifan both lurch in place when Yixing nearly falls right back down, too weak to stand on his own, but Jongdae comes to his aid as well, and together, he and Junmyeon help Yixing out of the room. 

It feels like an eternity before everyone’s First Aid needs are taken care of, before everyone who needs it is washed up and in fresh clothing, each person delegated their own task to bring order back to the house.

Baekhyun’s, apparently, is keeping Minjung company on the couch as he observes Minseok’s Ward-casting. Baekhyun only pretends to be put off for a second before nestling comfortably under Minjung’s arm, head on his shoulder. “What happened to you, kid?” Minjung quietly asks.

Pulling on his legs until they’re hugged to his chest, Baekhyun swallows. “Kyungsoo’s a Diminisher.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No.” He wishes he was. “He didn’t- ah- he didn’t mean to hurt me. He fell asleep and I touched his face-”

_”Baekhyun.”_

Baekhyun cowers under Minjung’s stern tone, bottom lip trembling a bit. “I-I almost died, and because of it, you almost died, I-”

“Hey…” Minjung sighs, wrapping his other arm around Baekhyun as well. “It’s probably useless to tell you to stay away from the guy, huh?”

Completely useless. Baekhyun is shaken, but Kyungsoo has always taken every precaution he can not to harm anyone since Baekhyun met him; he knows Kyungsoo is a good person. And Baekhyun… Baekhyun is too attached to let him go. “He doesn’t deserve to be so lonely. He’s not a bad person.”

“I’ve never met a good Diminisher, Baekhyun.”

“I have. Now.”

Minjung sighs. “You have to keep your head straight, alright? He could be a trap.”

“That’s what Yixing said.” But Baekhyun refuses to believe it. “The only threat I need to be worried about is Youngshik. This time is different, Uncle. I feel like he’s _always_ watching me.”

“I agree,” Minjung mutters. “I’m worried. And because I’m worried, this house is being put on lockdown, alright?”

“Uncle-”

Minjung pats his cheek. “No negotiations. We have to wait this out for a few days at least. Let everyone heal and try to figure out what the demon’s plan is.” Baekhyun opens his mouth to protest when Yifan calls his name from the hallway. “Go,” Minjung says. “Yixing needs you, I’m sure.” But after a quick kiss to Minjung’s cheek, Baekhyun is stopped with a hand grasping his. “Hey,” Minjung smiles softly at him. “Lia would be so proud of you.”

Baekhyun’s eyes burn but he blames it on his exhaustion. “I hope so.”

“I know so.”

Baekhyun nods slowly, before hurrying over to Yifan. “He’s asking for you,” Yifan murmurs. “I’ve… I’ve never seen him like this.”

A pang in his heart, a memory, of holding a nearly lifeless, sixteen year old Yixing in his arms who had tried, though futile, to revive Lia on her deathbed. “I have,” Baekhyun whispers, eyelids fluttering as the familiar sorrow fills him up. He hurries into the bedroom and tucks himself under the covers, and Yixing into his arms. “Sleep.” He kisses Yixing’s forehead.

“Only if you stay with me.” Yixing barely even has a voice, and Baekhyun has to blink back tears.

“Always. As long as you need me.”

Yifan squeezes Baekhyun’s shoulder from where he stands and bends over him to kiss Yixing’s head. “I’m going to help them cover the window, and then I’ll be back.”

Yixing nods and burrows closer to Baekhyun. “Have you had water and something to eat?” Baekhyun asks.

“Yifan made me. Now I just want to sleep.”

“Okay.” He presses another kiss to Yixing’s forehead. “Let’s sleep.”

The pair spends the next 24 hours sleeping, nearly, on and off, Baekhyun sometimes unable to turn his brain off, but Yixing only really waking up for one meal and one bathroom break, too weak to do anything _but_ sleep.

The next day is busy despite Minjung’s lockdown, everyone on edge when a crew comes to replace the broken window, and again when they have the groceries Baekhyun never got to pick up delivered to the front door.

It’s enough to last them at least a week, but it’s day three of The Lockdown that Baekhyun realizes this really might last that entire week’s worth of food, and he is absent with _zero_ explanation to Kyungsoo. _Oh my god, he’s going to think I hate him._

He begs Minjung to let him go out, just long enough to get Kyungsoo’s number! But Minjung is firm, and by the end of the day, the police are knocking on their door because a body was found at the edge of the property, and Baekhyun’s mind from that point on is elsewhere.

The police send someone to patrol outside the house, and Baekhyun asks them to send someone to watch out for Kyungsoo, too. Just in case.

He’s unable to shake the infinite sinking of his stomach and apprehension of the unknown until day six.

They’re almost out of groceries and are frankly all suffering some form of cabin fever, so Minjung deems it okay for a group of them to go grocery shopping.

At first, Baekhyun isn’t allowed to be part of that group, but after some downright begging (and a little logical reasoning from Yixing,) Baekhyun is heading to Yifan’s car with Yifan, Jongdae, and Junmyeon, heart pounding, but whether from excitement or terror, he doesn’t know. Maybe both. Probably both.

The grocery store they frequent is in town and across the street from Kyungsoo’s coffee shop, one building over, so naturally the first thing Baekhyun does when he gets out of the car?

He bolts across the street before anyone can stop him.

The bell dings angrily as he throws the door open and his friends yell after him, but he ploughs forward, straight for the table with the quiet artist, who blinks up at him with the widest eyes Baekhyun’s ever seen.

Breathless, he pants out, “Give me your phone number.”

“Wh-What?” Kyungsoo glances around uncertainly. Baekhyun is causing a scene.

He sits down, wiping his brow with his jacket sleeve, then sets Kyungsoo with a firm stare. “Your phone number.” He’d begun to forget what Kyungsoo looks like, in that dreamlike way, where you dream about someone, and you _know_ it’s that someone, but their face isn’t quite right. So Baekhyun isn’t sure if Kyungsoo’s gotten more attractive in the last week, or if Baekhyun had just _forgotten._

“But-”

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Baekhyun cuts in. “And I had no way to tell you that. I was stuck in that house for days, and it wasn’t because of you, but I had no way to tell you that. Please, Kyungsoo.” His voice softens. “Please.”

Kyungsoo stares down at Baekhyun’s fidgeting hands on the table, eyebrows drawn together. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why _weren’t_ you avoiding me?”

“Should I be?” Baekhyun sits back in his chair, but keeps his hands in place. “Are you going to hurt me?”

Kyungsoo swallows. “N-Not intentionally, but I-”

“Then I don’t have a reason to avoid you, silly.” Cautiously, Baekhyun leans forward again and reaches out to gently, barely, touch Kyungsoo’s covered forearm. Kyungsoo flinches but clearly forces himself to stay put, staring down at the point of contact. “I like your company. That hasn’t changed.”

“I don’t- I don’t understand.”

Courage growing, Baekhyun slides his hand until it’s cupping Kyungsoo’s arm fully. Kyungsoo’s hand clenches into a fist. Baekhyun smiles. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“I thought I had.” Kyungsoo’s accompanied laugh is watery, and Baekhyun squeezes his arm because there’s so much pain in it that can’t possibly be because of Baekhyun, but because of being left behind over and over again, because of never being accepted. Baekhyun always thought he, himself, had it bad, but Kyungsoo must have had it so, so much worse.

“Nope,” Baekhyun chuckles, though he sounds a bit watery himself. “You’re stuck with me.”

The corners of Kyungsoo’s lips timidly pull upward. “Okay.”

\----

Kyungsoo’s quiet agreement to be stuck with Baekhyun gives the latter a renewed sense of purpose, and dare he say it, hope.

It’s illogical, he knows, to feel hope at a desperate time like this simply because Kyungsoo has accepted him as a part of his life, but he can't help it, heart a little bigger every time Kyungsoo texts him back.

And Kyungsoo does. _Text him back._ Baekhyun giggles out loud almost every time to the point where everyone in the house knows what it means, sighs or groans playfully and teases him and it’s _nice._ It’s _distracting._ They talk about art and coffee and the weather, and it’s so simple, but perfect.

(He doesn't let Baekhyun touch him anymore though, but Baekhyun will take what he can get.)

The first time Kyungsoo texts him without being first prompted is when another body is found. Baekhyun is on the living room floor, head between his knees while the TV drones on in front of him, the solemn voice of the news anchor saying they have no leads but a decade-old police sketch drowning out everything else around Baekhyun, the whispers of his friends, the _thump thump thump_ of Minjung’s fingers on the armrest of his chair.

His phone dings and buzzes in his pocket and he sluggishly pulls it out, only then realizing that his palms are bleeding from his fingernails cutting too deep into his skin.

 **soo:** _Are you okay?_

His hands tremble too harshly to type a proper response, but a sleepy voice cuts into his concentration anyway, as Yixing enters the room. “What’s happening?”

No one answers him, but the news and Baekhyun’s state is telling enough. Yixing rushes forward and turns the TV off before dropping to his knees in front of Baekhyun. He pulls Baekhyun’s wrists forward to look at his hands. Baekhyun’s phone falls to the floor, a reflex maybe, so that Yixing can place their palms together and heal him.

“It’s okay, Baekhyun,” Yixing murmurs.

“This is the sixth victim,” Baekhyun whispers back. “He usually stops at five. Why is he still here?”

Yixing’s brows pull together. His throat bobs. “I don’t know. I don't know.”

Baekhyun texts those very same words back to Kyungsoo later, when he’s calmed down with tea, and Kyungsoo’s instantaneous response is just a heart.

\----

The way Baekhyun’s heart flutters any time Kyungsoo texts him, speaks, _breathes_ is no longer foreign. It’s a welcome feeling in all the chaos his father has wreaked and is so constant he can hardly tell the difference between it and feeling normally anymore.

He and Kyungsoo talk daily, have upgraded to phone calls even, and Baekhyun loves his voice so much sometimes he sleeps on the couch just so he can let it lull him to sleep, phone resting on his face and eyes closed, pretending Kyungsoo is there with him.

Today, Baekhyun had it all. Texting Kyungsoo in the morning, seeing him for lunch, and speaking with him now. Baekhyun’s entire body is warm with the affection he feels for Kyungsoo, and his cheeks hurt from being unable to stop smiling. 

”That mural you sent Yixing and me…”

Baekhyun hums. “It was amazing.” He’d overheard someone talking about a graffiti painting in the alley next to the grocery store, and had begged Minjung, Minseok, and Yifan to go see it when they were finished shopping. It truly had been amazing; an intricate painting detailing the town in a victory over a faceless villain. Despite knowing the town would never quite come together against Youngshik like that, the painting was a comfort to Baekhyun, letting him know that other people do care about what’s happening. He’d sent a picture of it in a group message to Kyungsoo and Yixing, a maybe not so subtle attempt to make them interact, because Yixing still has his reservations about the whole Diminisher thing.

”I want to see it.”

“I know,” Baekhyun chuckles. “You said so earlier when we had lunch. It’s just across the street from you, really.”

”I know, but I…” Kyungsoo hesitates. ”I think it… wouldn't feel right seeing it alone.”

“I’m sure Seulgi would go with you.”

Kyungsoo makes a noise that Baekhyun has come to associate with frustration, usually when Baekhyun is being extra annoying, or when Kyungsoo can't articulate something. ”It wouldn’t feel right seeing it without you.”

“Oh.” The butterflies in Baekhyun’s stomach grow tenfold, like they're fucking _birds_ now or something. “That- yeah. Yeah. Are you asking me on a date?” _Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes._

“No.” Damnit. “Or…” Or! “I don’t know. Is- Is that what I’m doing? Seulgi thought it’d- be a good idea...”

Baekhyun giggles, though it’s nervous. “Seulgi, huh?” He’ll have to thank her later. “I don’t know. Is it?”

He holds his breath as the silence stretches on, until quietly, Kyungsoo murmurs, ”I’d like to. Date… you.” Baekhyun’s stomach _swoops._ ”But I just… I can’t. Logically-”

“Hey,” Baekhyun gently cuts in. “We can figure out the heavy stuff later, yeah? Besides, I need you to wait for me.”

”Wait for you?”

Baekhyun hums. “I don't want to put a target on your back by taking you out in public--it’s bad enough that I visit your shop so often--and… well. I’d also like to date you without my entourage hovering a few feet behind us the whole time.”

Kyungsoo’s laugh is so full and hearty, Baekhyun knows he’ll sleep well tonight with it echoing in his head. ”That’s fair.” But Kyungsoo’s mood sombers almost instantly. “Baekhyun… I can't be what you need,” he whispers. “You need touch and I-”

“There are obvious loopholes here, Soo.” Though most of the loopholes flooding into his head suddenly involve fucking Kyungsoo, or being fucked by him, so he skirts along the issue before he really starts to break a sweat. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay.” Kyungsoo sighs, but it doesn't sound so distraught, so Baekhyun smiles. Then Kyungsoo speaks up again. ”I should go to sleep. But I… I’m going to send you a drawing I just finished when we hang up, if that’s okay.”

“A _drawing?!”_ Baekhyun nearly screeches. Kyungsoo’s _still_ never shown him any of his sketches. “Of course that’s okay-are- _youkiddingme!”_

“I'm hanging up now.”

 _”Kyungsoo!”_ Baekhyun might be flailing. “Okay! Fine! I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Future Datefriend.”

Kyungsoo sputters and it’s, frankly, worth it. “Okay. Goodnight, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun softens. “Goodnight, Kyungsoo.”

Hanging up, Baekhyun clutches his phone to his chest, eyes closed and smile unwavering until his phone pings with a new message.

He shoots upright when he sees it, blanket falling into disarray and free hand covering his mouth.

It’s… a portrait of him, of Baekhyun. 

It’s complete, one that Kyungsoo has filled in with color, and it’s so _realistic_ it has Baekhyun gawking. His portrait’s smiling eyes are shining, cheeks rosy, and his mouth is open in an obvious laugh. His hair is a bit of a mess, probably from running his fingers through it too much that day, and every mole on real-Baekhyun’s face is present on portrait-Baekhyun’s face.

The one on portrait-Baekhyun’s cheek is shaped like a heart.

There’s a cartoonish quotation bubble next to his head that just says “blah blah blah” and Baekhyun laughs, eyes watery.

He shoots off a text to Kyungsoo that mostly consists of keysmashing and all but confessing his love for the man, and is startled when someone sits next to him.

“What’s got you so happy?” Minjung asks, wrapping an arm around him. Baekhyun snuggles into him.

“Kyungsoo asked me on a date. And drew a picture of me!”

Minjung playfully scoffs. “Well I could draw a picture of you-” Baekhyun holds up his phone with the picture of the drawing. “Oh. Shit. He’s good.”

“He is,” Baekhyun sighs dreamily.

Minjung pats Baekhyun’s thigh. “So he… asked you out, huh?”

“If you think I need the sex talk, I have some news to break to you-”

“It’s not that, idiot.” Minjung sighs. “We’re worried. I’m worried. About you. The others have… mentioned that you stopped getting intimate with them-” Baekhyun groans. “-which is your prerogative! But we’re worried because it seems to be because of Kyungsoo. Because you’re serious about him.”

Baekhyun _has_ stopped sleeping with Jongdae and Junmyeon, and kissing Yixing on the mouth, and yeah, it _is_ because he’s serious about Kyungsoo, because it feels wrong to share those moments with someone else when he likes Kyungsoo so much. (So much that he doesn't know why Yixing kept it up when he started dating Yifan.) And does Baekhyun feel a bit deprived? Maybe. But he’s not any less _healthy_ for it, so it doesn't matter. “You don't have to worry about me,” he says. “There isn't anything you’ve thought of that I haven’t, okay? I know being with him wouldn't be easy, but I have to at least try. I like him so much, Uncle.”

“I know you do, Baek. I know you do.”

Baekhyun hates the concern that coats his voice.

\----

**soo <3:** _You're not that bad, I guess._  
**baekhyun:** _HOW have i still not upgraded from 'not that bad' ?!??!!!!_  
**soo <3:** _You're... really not that bad?_  
**baekhyun:** _KYUNGSOO_  
**soo <3:** _You're... pretty amazing, actually._  
**baekhyun:** _you make my heart go doki doki <3 <3 <3_  
**soo <3:** _Yikes._  
**soo <3:** _Me too._

\----

Sunlight showers Kyungsoo's face, warms Baekhyun's back, and he idly thinks this must be what it feels like to be a cat, curled up under the open window and soaking in the warmth of the sun. Kyungsoo's expression softens and Baekhyun realizes he's staring.

He doesn't stop. He wants to reach out, always does, but he's grown accustomed to holding back, just like he's grown accustomed to hearing Kyungsoo's voice in the middle of a shouting crowd. So he lays there on his stomach and settles for the way their hands rest between their faces, just shy of touching. It's enough, somehow it's enough for Baekhyun who endlessly thrives on physical affection, to have this quiet moment with Kyungsoo, to watch the sun set in his eyes.

"Tell me something," Baekhyun whispers after a while. His fingers twitch where they rest.

"What?" Kyungsoo whispers back.

"Something about you. Anything."

He feels Kyungsoo's pensive eyes as they slowly roam from his hand and trail along his arm, up to his shoulder and back to Baekhyun's face. His soft smile is loaded with more than mere contentedness. "The shop was my mom's." The corners of his lips pull downward. "I didn't- I didn't have a chance to know her, but I have an idea, and she... was wonderful. I have letters." The smile that suddenly lights up Kyungsoo's face knocks the breath from Baekhyun's lungs. It's so open, genuine, so ridiculously and utterly beautiful. "She wrote me letters before I was born. She loved art, too, but always complained that she didn't have the skill to make her own."

"Something we have in common," Baekhyun mumbles, pouting.

Kyungsoo's eyes soften. "You remind me of her. My aunt gave me home videos. I used to watch them all the time. She was loud and affectionate and cared too much. Just like you."

Warmth blooms in Baekhyun's chest, clear affection swimming in Kyungsoo's gaze. He wishes more than anything that he could feel that affection swimming through his veins, too. "Well then she sounds pretty amazing." Baekhyun's voice is too thick.

Kyungsoo laughs. "I think so."

"Why don't you watch the videos anymore?"

Kyungsoo's smile falls. "I go through phases, I guess." He shuts his eyes. "Sometimes... all I can do is watch her smile and laugh on loop. Other times... it just hurts too much. Sometimes I can’t even close my eyes without seeing her face and it kills me.” He inhales deeply. “Because I- I killed her.”

“Kyungsoo…” Baekhyun doesn't need an explanation to know it’s not true, to know that Kyungsoo blaming himself is unnecessary.

“She died when she had me. The… the life drained from her.”

“Hey,” Baekhyun says when Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut tighter. This is where Baekhyun is supposed to surge forward and take his sort-of-datefriend into his arms, kiss his head and tell him it’s not his fault. But he can only do the latter. “You didn't do it with intent, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo just shakes his head, breathing deeply through his nose. 

“What about your father?” Baekhyun asks after letting Kyungsoo cool down for a while.

“Deadbeat, according to my aunt. She hated him.” Kyungsoo finally meets his gaze again, so Baekhyun offers a small, encouraging smile. “He didn't like that my mom was so focused on art, wanted her to do something _practical._ Which no, did not include opening a coffee shop. He just wanted her to make a ton of money so he didn't have to. He cheated on her because of it. So yeah. Deadbeat.”

“My biological mother was too. Or, I don't know. Maybe she was scared. She abandoned me at the hospital. And well, my father is evil, so. Where’s your aunt?”

“Moved away when I turned eighteen. Your mother just left you there?”

Baekhyun nods. “It’s hurtful to think about, I guess, but it was for the best I think. Because of that, I ended up with Lia and she was the best mom I could ever ask for.”

“Lia…” Kyungsoo contemplates. “You’ve mentioned her before but not like the others. Is she…?”

Baekhyun looks down at their hands. “She passed away when I was sixteen. Aneurysm. No one ever saw it coming.” He swallows. “Yixing almost died trying to save her, but there was nothing he could do. That’s why…” Now Baekhyun squeezes his eyes shut, but only for a moment. “That’s why he was so broken when I almost died. He thought he was going to go through that again.”

Slowly, Kyungsoo nods. “He was close with Lia, too?”

“Yeah.” Baekhyun inhales deeply and smiles. “Yixing didn’t have great parents either–we should form a club, the three of us–and he started staying with us more often than not. Then eventually he just… stopped going home. His parents never even called. They were Normals. They thought he was a freak.”

“God.”

“Yeah. But… I don't know. I guess we were a sort of unconventional family. Us, Lia, Minjung, Minseok. But I couldn't have asked for anything, anyone better.”

“Minjung helped raise you too?”

Baekhyun shifts onto his back and turns it, until their feet are facing opposite directions, so that he can be closer to Kyungsoo’s face. Close enough that it would take little to no effort to lean forward and kiss him. “Yeah. Him and Lia weren't together or anything. But I mean, you form a special bond with someone when you steal a baby from a hospital together.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes widen. “They stole you from the hospital?!”

Baekhyun laughs loud, carefree, and the tension and anxiety drain from him once again. “Badass, right?”

“Your life is an action film from the beginning.”

Eyes crinkling, Baekhyun grins brightly, arm curling up so he can play with the very tips of Kyungsoo’s hair. “Then that makes you my hot, knight in shining armor sidekick who saves the day and I fall in love with in the end. Not necessarily in that order.”

Kyungsoo blushes.

\----

Things cool down soon after that. No more bodies, no more sightings, no more creepy, crawly feelings up Baekhyun’s spine the very few–too few–opportunities he gets to go out and see Kyungsoo, and no more police patrolling the house or Kyungsoo’s shop, because the threat is gone.

But the quieter things get, the stricter Minjung gets about going out, and the more irritated Baekhyun becomes about _everything._

“It’s been weeks,” Baekhyun argues. They’re all sitting around the dining table, having a pseudo-family meeting. Baekhyun doesn't think there’s anything left to discuss. “I haven't felt him or seen him in weeks. I want to stop living like a prisoner!”

“You’re hardly living like a prisoner, Baek,” Minjung scoffs. “Orange jumpsuits wouldn't suit you.”

Baekhyun has to bite the inside of his cheek. “I’m not joking around. I'm going crazy here. I just want my life back.”

Jongdae teases, “He just wants to stare at Kyungsoo every day.”

“Why are you guys picking on me?” Baekhyun snaps. “This isn’t even about Kyungsoo. This is about Youngshik being gone and everyone having their lives back! You do too much for me already and it’s been _months_ since any of us lived normally. He can't go that long without killing so let’s just go back to living our lives as if he doesn't exist until the next time he comes around to terrorize us!”

Silence descends upon the room as everyone stares at him, eyes wide and maybe a little hurt. Baekhyun’s heart rate clatters in his ears, body trembling with anger and frustration, and when still, after moments pass, no one offers a response, he claps his hands against the table, shoves his chair backward, and storms from the room, muttering “Whatever,” under his breath.

“Baekhyun…” Yixing’s hand gently wraps around his wrist just before he makes it into the guest bathroom.

Baekhyun yanks away. “Not now, Xing.” He sighs, softening his voice. “I’m sorry. Not now.” He slips into the bathroom and locks the door behind him.

Through the door, Yixing murmurs. “I'm on your side, Baekhyun. Always.”

“I know,” Baekhyun whispers to himself.

His first thought is to take a hot shower, something scalding enough to take away his unwarranted anger toward his friends. He never lashes out at them and regret is flooding his gut already but he needs to cool down, needs a few moments to himself. 

He plops down onto the closed toilet, lighting up his phone to check the time. He pauses when he sees the blurry-from-movement picture of Kyungsoo smiling on his lock screen. Baekhyun has never been good at subtlety but he had _needed_ a picture of that moment, Kyungsoo unrestrainedly laughing at something Baekhyun had said. 

Baekhyun feels his face soften as he looks at it, the crinkles of Kyungsoo’s eyes, his wide, heart-shaped smile. This man has come to mean _so much_ to Baekhyun, _everything,_ even. 

And he misses Kyungsoo so much. It’s been _a week_ since they’ve seen each other last, and yeah, maybe they just spoke on the phone this morning, and every day before that, but Baekhyun _misses him._

Right then, he gets a new message.

 **soo <3:** _Are you up?_

Baekhyun doesn't really have to think about his response.

 **baekhyun:** _yea. want some company?_  
**soo:** _Sure. Call me when you can._

That’s not what Baekhyun meant, but he grins first at his phone, then at the locked window adjacent to him. 

One click and he’s free.

\----

The walk into town is dark and just creepy enough to make Baekhyun realize he’s never made this walk at night alone. He and Jongdae used to do it frequently to visit the hole-in-the-wall bar a few blocks past Kyungsoo’s shop, but yeah, never alone.

Owls coo ominously from the trees, and the breeze rustles the green around him enough to make it sound like someone’s following him.

He quickens his pace, freedom ringing clear in his mind when he breaks free of the neighborhood and hits the edge of town. No more creepy animal sounds here!

But that ends up being a million times creepier, walking in dead silence because most people are home sleeping, and most everyone’s businesses are closed for the night. Only some of the streetlights work, and the closer he gets to his destination, the more the ones that _do_ work flicker. 

Wind blows his hair into his face, and a tall figure steps from the shadows.

Ice courses through Baekhyun’s veins as he stutters to a stop. No, _no,_ this isn’t _happening._

The sultry, “Hello, Baekhyun,” that leaves Youngshik’s mouth kickstarts Baekhyun’s legs again, hurriedly carrying him past the demon. If he just pushes forward-

But a harsh hand on his arm stops him, and he’s spun around, met with Youngshik’s shining, mischievous smile. “Now, now, why shouldn't I get to spend some quality time with my son?”

 _”I’m not your son.”_ Baekhyun’s shout is deafening in the silence of the town, but Youngshik’s answering laugh echoes down the street and Baekhyun has never felt more alone.

“But you are.” The hand not grasping Baekhyun’s wrist cups his face. Bile rises in his throat before he jerks away. “Otherwise this would all be for nought, no?”

“What do you _want_ from me?” Baekhyun cries out. He tries inhaling deeply, tries to calm himself down; his energy is already draining. Panic, panic, panic. 

He breaks free of Youngshik’s grip and stumbles backward. _Keep moving._ “Quality time,” Youngshik smiles, following him. “But I think I said that already. You should really listen to your father when he speaks to you.”

“Fuck you!” Baekhyun spits. He bumps into a trash can and hurries to move around it. “If all you want is quality time, then why did you attack Minjung and Minseok?”

“Well that’s easy.” Youngshik flicks his long hair behind his shoulder. “Minseok was in my way of Minjung, and Minjung has been in my way of you since you were born. Can’t have that. And I’d have picked off all your little friends by now too if I wasn’t so determined to bring you with me _alive.”_

Baekhyun’s heart lurches. “You won't touch them!” If he keeps yelling, maybe someone will hear, maybe someone is around.

“Well.” Youngshik winks. “We’ll see.”

Baekhyun just gets louder. _”Don’t. Touch. Them.”_

Youngshik laughs. “Baekhyunnie. No one is here. No one will save you.”

And Baekhyun believes him. He has no reason not to; he’s alone in the middle of an empty street in the middle of the night. His friends might not even know he’s gone yet so they’re definitely not out looking for him. He is completely alone.

Youngshik seems to know this, grin widening by the second. He takes an extra step forward and grabs Baekhyun by the jacket, hoisting him up enough to make him have to stand on his tiptoes to keep his balance as he cries out, skin crawling. “Silly Baekhyun, running out on your own. Such a disappointment to your friends, I’m sure. They go through all of this trouble to protect you, and you walk right into my arms-”

Baekhyun yelps as he’s sharply yanked to his left, the seams of his jacket digging into his skin as he’s pulled away from Youngshik, the force enough for the fabric to slip from the demon’s hands and allow Baekhyun’s savior to shove him inside, to safety. To _safety._

Tears spill down his cheeks and he half sobs, half gasps for breath into the back of his hand, helpless but to stare as Youngshik tries to force the door open against Kyungsoo– _he’s in the coffee shop_ –but Kyungsoo perseveres, firmly holding it shut long enough to lock it, then he begins muttering under his breath. Baekhyun blearily realizes he’s casting a Ward, though he’s never seen one cast so simply.

“Kyu-Kyungsoo, I-” Baekhyun pants, body drooping considerably. His body doesn’t need to escape anymore, so the adrenaline is gone, leaving only panic in its wake.

 _”You can’t hide in there forever, Baekhyun!”_ The shades are pulled over the windows and door, but Youngshik’s silhouette is still prominent.

He’s right. “Kyungsoo, I can’t- breathe-” Baekhyun needs Yixing. He needs-

Trembling, clothed hands gently cup Baekhyun’s face and a small spark of warmth shoots through his veins, a breath being breathed into his lungs for him. His eyes blink open in surprise but Kyungsoo swims before him, a concerned, dizzying blur. It’s not enough. “Kyungsoo,” he struggles to whisper, reality fading fast. “Kiss- Kiss me, Kyungsoo.”

But Kyungsoo does the opposite, drawing a pathetic whimper from Baekhyun when his face isn’t being held anymore, when Kyungsoo backs away. “You know I- I can’t, Baekhyun. I can’t. I’ll kill you-”

But Baekhyun collapses to the floor right then, panic overcoming him, breath not quite reaching his lungs. “Ky- Kyungs-” And he’s scooped up, swept into Kyungsoo’s arms and carried swiftly across the shop. Baekhyun hangs limply at first, but vaguely realizes they’re coming up on the staircase and weakly curls in on himself, tucking his legs in, head lolling onto Kyungsoo’s shoulder, hand curling around the first thing it can grasp.

“B-Baekhyun, no-” is all Baekhyun really hears, sound muffled by the ringing in his ears, by his fading consciousness.

But by the time they reach the top of the staircase, the ache in Baekhyun’s lungs is less and he can hear Kyungsoo panting with exertion, focuses on it, even, because it’s still steadier than Baekhyun’s own breaths.

When Kyungsoo lays him down on the bed is when Baekhyun realizes his hand is on Kyungsoo’s _neck,_ Baekhyun’s bare hand on Kyungsoo’s soft, warm skin. And Baekhyun feels _better._ Kyungsoo’s eyes are wide, intense stare scrutinizing every inch of Baekhyun’s face.

Baekhyun shakes his head and whispers, “Kiss me, Kyungsoo.” His grip on Kyungsoo’s neck strengthens, so gently pulling him forward while Kyungsoo can't seem to shake the shock, slowly leaning into Baekhyun’s space, arms caging him in. “Only if you want to,” Baekhyun gently adds, slowly sliding his hand from Kyungsoo’s neck to his jaw, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

“I- I w-want to…”

The slow press of their lips sends a jolt through Baekhyun, like his life doesn’t know whether to drain or grow, but then he parts his lips with a shaky breath, Kyungsoo’s tongue timidly sweeps his mouth, and he feels it, the strength spreading through him, the haze in his brain clearing. Slower than it normally would, it seems, but still. _Strength._

Baekhyun pulls Kyungsoo closer, onto the bed fully, guiding him until Kyungsoo is straddling his hips and making cute little desperate noises against Baekhyun’s mouth. When they part for breath, foreheads pressed together, Kyungsoo’s eyes are squeezed shut. “Soo…” Baekhyun whispers, using his thumb to smooth the harsh lines of Kyungsoo’s forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo mutters, sitting up and back on his haunches, cheeks a deep red and eyes slowly opening.

He’s crying.

Baekhyun sits up so quickly it disorients him a moment, but then he’s wiping at Kyungsoo’s tears, kissing the corner of his mouth, his chin. “Soo, what’s wrong?” He ignores that his own cheeks are stiff with fallen tears.

“N- Nothing, I-” Sniffling, Kyungsoo rests his gloved hand over one of Baekhyun’s, holding it to his face, pushing his cheek into the touch. “I never thought- I never thought I would know what this feels like. You’re so- I’ve dreamed of this, of being able to- to hold you.”

Now Baekhyun’s eyes are brimming with tears. He swallows and shakes his head, thumb tracing Kyungsoo’s lips. “M-My body’s need for affection must be- overpowering your body’s need to take. Or something.” Kyungsoo only nods in agreement, the movement forcing more tears down his cheeks. Neither of them care about an explanation right now. All that matters is this, that this is _possible._ “Can I do something?”

Kyungsoo nods again. “Anything.”

Baekhyun cautiously takes Kyungsoo’s hand from his face and holds it delicately in his, then slowly, so slowly, pulls at each finger of the glove, easing it from Kyungsoo’s hand who watches on in wary silence, shakily offering his other one when Baekhyun is done with the first. For a moment, Baekhyun just admires Kyungsoo’s bare hands, palms against his own between them. His nails are bitten down to the beds and there are impressions of the glove in the skin of his wrist, but Baekhyun loves these hands, he decides. They’re smaller than his own, fingers shorter and thicker, but pretty. Baekhyun takes them properly in his own before kissing each one, then placing them on his own face. The buzz of contact is disorienting for the shortest moment--Kyungsoo’s power must be strongest in his hands while Baekhyun’s strongest point of contact is his face--but again, Baekhyun’s nature wins, and Kyungsoo’s broken, watery smile is so beautiful Baekhyun has to kiss it.

“H-How do you feel?” Kyungsoo asks. “Are you okay?” His eyes flick back and forth between Baekhyun’s gaze and where his own fingers caress Baekhyun’s face, brush through his hair.

“I’m…” Baekhyun suddenly remembers how he ended up here in the first place and blinks rapidly, dread filling him all over again. Youngshik. Is he still out there? “Ah. Panic tends to drain me faster than anything. That’s why I… I was fine before-”

Kyungsoo frowns. “That was Youngshik, right? Did he hurt you?”

“No- No. He just- cornered me. God, it was so stupid to sneak out of Minjung’s house alone. I should've listened to him, I should’ve known Youngshik would still be watching me but I just-” Baekhyun inhales deeply, closing his eyes, focusing on Kyungsoo’s hands, his bare hands on his face, filling him with life. “I should call someone. Let them know I’m okay.”

“Of course. Do you have your phone or do you need mine?” Baekhyun just shakes his head, digging his phone from his hoodie pocket. Kyungsoo nods. “You’re not going back out there tonight, right? You could stay here, with me. You’re safe with the Ward up.”

“Thank you,” Baekhyun breathes. “That would be- I think I’m too scared to go out there again anyway. I’ve… never been alone with him before. It was scarier than I expected.” Baekhyun frowns and Kyungsoo gently kisses his forehead before Baekhyun buries his face in his neck. “I feel like a child. I-” He hums automatically when Kyungsoo engulfs him in his arms, nuzzling his hair. “I snapped at Minseok and said I could handle myself around Youngshik. But I can’t, can I? I was so- so terrified- I just kept shouting at him hoping _someone_ would hear me, but I didn’t think anyone-”

“Shh…” Kyungsoo’s arms tighten around him. “I heard you. I heard you. You’re safe. You’re- You’re _actually_ safe with me.”

The disbelief in his voice makes Baekhyun hiccup out a laugh. “We’re a mess.” He pulls back and nudges Kyungsoo’s nose with his own. “How’d you cast a Ward like that? When Minjung and Minseok do it it’s always a long process that involves silly things like Sage and purified water.”

“My aunt taught me. It’s the only way I’ve ever known really, so I’m not sure what the difference is. Maybe it’s because I’m a Supernatural? They’re Normals, right?”

Baekhyun hums. “Yeah. I guess it makes sense for there to be multiple ways to do it. I’ve just always seen it done the same way.” He sighs and gently kisses Kyungsoo’s lips. “Should make that call now.”

Kyungsoo nods. “Can I get you anything?”

“Water, maybe?” Baekhyun says as he touches his fingers to his own throat. He’d like to wash away the desperate, terrified yelling. 

“Of course.”

“I’m gonna…” Baekhyun sighs while Kyungsoo climbs off of his lap. “I’m gonna walk downstairs and see if Youngshik is still there.”

Kyungsoo pauses next to the bed, casting wary eyes on him. “Baek…”

“I’m not gonna make myself known, or walk out the door into his _fatherly embrace_ or anything. I just- wanna know if I should be more worried than I already am. If he’s hovering.”

Reluctantly, Kyungsoo nods, so Baekhyun climbs off the bed. He’s still a little lightheaded and weak in the knees, but he’s not collapsing again, so he makes his way toward the staircase and speed dials Yixing’s number.

Yixing answers on the first ring. “Baekhyun, for _fuck’s_ sake-”

“I’m fine, I promise. I-” Baekhyun sighs.

“Where are you?” Yixing’s voice is shaking and Baekhyun’s stomach flops uncomfortably. He hates making Yixing worry. Why is Baekhyun so stupid?

“I’m at the coffeeshop. With Kyungsoo.” He nibbles on his bottom lip.

Yixing groans. “You put your life in danger for a midnight hangout? You couldn't have waited a night’s sleep?! I would’ve taken you myself!”

“It wasn't like that!” Baekhyun frowns as he starts slowly descending the stairs. “Well, maybe it was a little but, look. I know you guys mean well but I just… felt suffocated in that house. I couldn’t take it anymore. I just wanted to see him. I thought I’d be fine, but-”

“Wh-What do you mean you _thought you’d be fine?_ Did Youngshik show up? Please tell me he didn’t, Baek.”

Mentally drained, Baekhyun sits down on the stairs and recounts everything that happened, as much detail as he can remember.

“Give me fifteen minutes. I’ll come heal you,” Yixing insists after Baekhyun mentions his panic attack, and Baekhyun hears the distinct sound of being put on speaker so that Yixing can no doubt put on his shoes.

Baekhyun stands up and walks the last few steps, shaking his head. “I’m okay, Xing. You don't need to come over here.” He carefully peeks around the wall and does indeed see a distinct Youngshik-shaped silhouette still through the shade pulled down over the door’s window. A pang of panic hits his chest. “Y- You can’t,” he whispers. “He’s still here.”

“You need to be healed,” Yixing insists fiercely. “And maybe Minjung can fucking finish him off once and for all.”

 _”No.”_ Baekhyun clenches his fist painfully before turning on his heels and moving back up the stairs. “No one else is putting themselves in danger for me and I don’t need to be healed. Kyungsoo has taken care of that.”

“Kyungsoo? Kyungsoo can't even touch you-”

“He can. He- He cares about me, Xing. It… Somehow my problem overcomes his. I can feel it for a moment, like a tug of war happening inside me, but then my side wins and absorbs his affection. It’s slower, I think, but it still _works._ His touch doesn't hurt me anymore.”

“Shit.”

Baekhyun grins, reaching the top of the stairs but a little too drained from the trek. “I know.” He beelines for the kitchenette, where Kyungsoo is standing and watching him, gaze soft over his glass of water. Baekhyun grabs his free hand and rests it on his cheek, sighing and pushing into the warmth. “I’m fine, okay, Yixing? You don't need to worry about me.”

“I’ll always worry about you, stupid. But especially while Youngshik is still around.” Kyungsoo pulls Baekhyun closer, peppering slow, gentle kisses across the cheek that isn't occupied by a phone, where his hand had been. Baekhyun smiles. “If you won't let us come try to take care of him, I’m calling the police, Baekhyun,” Yixing adds. “Maybe that’ll at least scare him off so he’s not just… hovering.”

“Okay,” Baekhyun murmurs, because there’s no use arguing. “I can deal with that as long as you guys aren't putting yourselves in danger.”

Yixing sighs. “I don't want to hear it after you ran off into danger like that tonight.”

Baekhyun pulls a face, rolls his eyes, but Kyungsoo’s stern eyes make it clear he agrees with Yixing here. “I’m sorry,” Baekhyun says to them both. “I really am. I wasn't thinking.”

“No you weren’t. But I’m sorry we made you feel like shit. We’re just trying to protect-”

“I know. It’s okay.”

Yixing sighs again. “I love you, Baek. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. Tell Kyungsoo thank you, for me.” 

Baekhyun smiles softly at Kyungsoo, knowing he heard it. “I will. Love you, Xing.” Baekhyun hangs up and sets his phone on the counter behind Kyungsoo, using the movement to wrap his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist. “I was reckless. I’m sorry.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Drink your water.”

Giving him a quick peck on the lips, Baekhyun obeys, finding the full glass of water on the counter and sipping it graciously until it’s empty. The quicker he gets it in the sink, the quicker he can reattach himself to Kyungsoo, which is exactly what he does, nuzzling Kyungsoo’s chin with his nose as he goes.

Kyungsoo’s fingers stroke Baekhyun’s hair. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he whispers, meeting Baekhyun’s lips with ease.

“Thanks to you,” Baekhyun mumbles into Kyungsoo’s soft, soft mouth, pressing his body closer as hands sink into his hair. “Thanks to you.”

They stumble, by Baekhyun’s lead, back to Kyungsoo’s room, clearly trying to master the art of walking while every inch of their bodies remains in contact, stealing each other’s breath with every increasingly heated kiss.

“Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun whispers, falling to the bed and bringing Kyungsoo down on top of him. He sucks Kyungsoo’s bottom lip between his teeth. “Should we sleep?”

“I want-” Kyungsoo’s breath shudders. “I want to keep kissing you.” A hand slides down to Baekhyun’s hip. “Touching you.”

He’s blushing furiously and Baekhyun has to withhold a groan over how fucking cute it is. “G- Good… Me too- I want that- you to do that-” Kyungsoo squeezes his hip. “Ho boy, it’s hot. I’m wearing too many clothes-”

Kyungsoo’s hand is on his thigh now, thumb rubbing over his sweats. He glances down at Baekhyun’s jacket. “Sh- Should I-?”

Baekhyun has to snap his mouth shut and just nod because otherwise he thinks he’d beg Kyungsoo to take _all_ of his clothes off, right here and now. He watches Kyungsoo’s throat bob as he swallows, and his trembling hands as he sits back and carefully pinches the zipper between his finger and thumb. He’s so nervous, and Baekhyun thinks it’s both cute and pitiful. Mostly cute, but a part of him does feel bad. Kyungsoo’s life must have been so lonely up until now.

“We can stop if you want,” Baekhyun murmurs, watching the other man carefully as he unzips Baekhyun slowly, because Baekhyun only remembers when the air hits his chest that he’s not wearing a shirt beneath this jacket. Kyungsoo’s gulp is audible as the jacket falls open and Kyungsoo’s gaze falls to Baekhyun’s mildly toned chest, his soft tummy, then back up again, glancing between Baekhyun’s nipples. Baekhyun giggles. He can’t help it. “Soo…”

Kyungsoo’s eyes flick back up to meet his. “I want this. I want you…” Hands on Baekhyun’s chest, Kyungsoo presses forward until their lips are fitted together and Baekhyun’s body pulses with want when Kyungsoo adjusts himself and a hand grazes Baekhyun’s nipple. 

“Me too. Me too,” Baekhyun belatedly responds, propping himself up on his elbows without fully separating from Kyungsoo’s plush mouth. When he pushes up further, Kyungsoo takes the hint and sits back on his haunches while Baekhyun shucks his jacket and tosses it aside. “Sit down,” he gently instructs, climbing onto his knees and waiting until Kyungsoo does as he’s told, sitting cross-legged with hands nervously resting on his knees. 

Baekhyun smiles and takes those hands in his, using them as leverage as he climbs onto Kyungsoo’s lap, straddling him. He smiles against Kyungsoo’s lips, nuzzles his nose, and gently guides one hand to rest on his bare back, and the other on his ass. He squeezes his hand over Kyungsoo’s and hums, pleased, smile growing wider at another audible gulp. His hands relocate to the side of Kyungsoo’s neck and into his hair, hum a little louder when Kyungsoo experimentally squeezes his ass on his own. 

Baekhyun presses their lips together, breathes the same air and whispers, “Just like that, Kyungsoo.”

But, “You’re so cold,” Kyungsoo murmurs, rubbing along Baekhyun’s back. “Your skin. Like you never had a jacket on at all.”

“It happens when I’m not quite at full health,” Baekhyun explains distractedly, sucking at Kyungsoo’s bottom lip, but Kyungsoo pulls back.

“What? Should we stop?”

The break in mood doesn't deter Baekhyun, who shakes his head and wiggles closer. “Absolutely not.” He gently rolls his hips, their crotches together, and Kyungsoo brokenly moans under his breath. “Keep me warm, Kyungsoo.”

Kyungsoo’s sudden kisses are heated, verging on desperate, and Baekhyun eats it up, tugging on Kyungsoo’s hair, grinding down again, openly moaning when Kyungsoo gets _both_ hands on his ass and squeezes. 

He whispers Kyungsoo’s name like a prayer over and over, rocks a little more vigorously with Kyungsoo’s help because they're both on their way to being hard as a rock now, grunts and whines filling the nonexistent space between them, the room, the apartment. 

Kyungsoo gets his mouth on Baekhyun’s neck just as their crotches meet in a grind and Baekhyun moans his loudest yet, shivering with pleasure and sensitivity. Kyungsoo pulls back enough to quirk a brow at him and Baekhyun nearly keels over seeing how red and swollen Kyungsoo’s lips are, how blown his pupils are, how flushed his cheeks. 

“Neck. Very sensitive,” Baekhyun briefly explains, swallowing and reaching behind himself for a pillow. He places it behind Kyungsoo. “Remember that.”

And Baekhyun wastes no time now, tugging at Kyungsoo’s sweatshirt until he can grip the ends to pull it over Kyungsoo’s head. Kyungsoo shivers when the air hits him, or maybe it’s because Baekhyun immediately attaches eager fingers to his nipples. Baekhyun grins, smoothing his thumbs over the pink flesh and admiring Kyungsoo’s firm belly, his beautiful tan skin, before wrapping a hand around the back of Kyungsoo’s head and urging him to kiss his neck again.

Baekhyun tosses his head back, sighing happily, skin buzzing everywhere their bare skin touches now. Kyungsoo’s teeth graze his skin and he sucks in a breath, then Kyungsoo’s tongue swipes across the bite and Baekhyun can't help but moan shamelessly just before they fall to the bed, mouths attached again, tongues pressing, teeth tugging. 

“Can I take these off?” Baekhyun pants, curling his fingers into the waistband of Kyungsoo’s sweatpants and boxers, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Kyungsoo nods, throat bobbing as he watches Baekhyun sink down, lip bitten in determination while Kyungsoo lifts his hips long enough for Baekhyun to get the job done. He shucks his own remaining clothes quickly before taking in Kyungsoo, because once he starts appreciating he won't be able to stop, he knows.

His palms press into Kyungsoo’s inner thighs, slowly spreading them open, and he feels himself lick his lips without really meaning to, grins when Kyungsoo curses under his breath. Baekhyun settles closer, making himself as small as possible as he places a chaste kiss at the base of Kyungsoo’s thick cock, making Kyungsoo full-body shudder, his hard length bouncing with the movement. “You’re so beautiful, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun murmurs, dropping lower to kiss Kyungsoo’s balls. Kyungsoo is surprisingly well-groomed, and his cock looks like the perfect fit for Baekhyun’s hand, for his _mouth,_ hard and flushed and just long enough to do some damage to Baekhyun’s prostate, it looks like. Now he shudders, already anticipating when they might do that, when Kyungsoo might let him ride him until they're both screaming-

Kyungsoo’s hands on his face pull him from his thoughts and admiration, because they’re trembling so violently they can barely hold onto him. Baekhyun immediately sits up and moves to straddle Kyungsoo’s hips, eyes wide. “Why are your hands shaking like this?” Baekhyun takes them into his own, squeezing Kyungsoo’s fingers.

Kyungsoo’s eyebrows furrow as he shakes his head. “I can’t help it. I- I keep- thinking this is just a dream. That I’m going to wake up with my bare hands on you and you’ll be- be dead.”

 _Oh, Kyungsoo._ “This is real,” Baekhyun responds too shakily, so he huffs and says more firmly, “This is real. I’m alive. You’ve been touching me for what? An hour or more now? And I’m not dead, Soo. You made me stronger. So much stronger.”

“It just doesn't feel real. I- I don't know. I can’t stop-”

“Shh…” Baekhyun lets go of one hand to reach forward and stroke Kyungsoo’s face. “Everything is okay, baby. I’m fine. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kyungsoo presses his head back into the pillow and visibly takes a deep breath, Baekhyun squeezing his hand and moving to stroke his hair. “You really feel better?” Kyungsoo whispers.

 _”I was almost unconscious before, so yes, definitely.”_ Baekhyun leans forward, caging Kyungsoo’s head. “You have to focus on reality, Soo. The first time you invited me to your apartment, I was too curious, and I touched your face. Remember?” Kyungsoo narrows his eyes in a very _how could I fucking forget_ fashion and Baekhyun shrinks. “I was already a little weak and your power put me on the ground until Yixing got here. But tonight, you saved me. You saved my life and when I nearly passed out from panic, you brought me back.” Baekhyun swallows. “Chances are, me accidentally grabbing your neck like that would've killed me, if our powers hadn’t somehow balanced out, if you didn't care about me-”

“I care about you,” Kyungsoo chokes out suddenly. “So much.”

“I know.” Baekhyun presses his lips to Kyungsoo’s chin. “It’s not just bare skin, you know. I could feel it when you picked me up. It’s just a stronger connection between bare skin.” He kisses Kyungsoo’s lips. “I’m like my own lie detector. You can't heal me without feeling some kind of love for me. Uh, platonic or no.” Baekhyun clears his throat. He doesn't want to seem like he’s implying Kyungsoo _loves_ him, loves him-

“I think I do,” Kyungsoo whispers, hands considerably steadier when they reach to hold Baekhyun’s face. “I think I do love you.”

Baekhyun’s heart stops, eyes widen. “Platonically?” he squeaks.

Slowly, Kyungsoo shakes his head. “No, not platonically, Baekhyun.” His voice trembles almost as much as his hands have been. Baekhyun thinks he’s not used to being so open, because he was never allowed to be. Never allowed to have feelings for anyone for fear of hurting them.

“Ky- Kyungsoo…” Now Baekhyun’s trembling, filled to the brim with emotion, warmth spreading in his heart in a way he’s not used to. Baekhyun never gets to have this, someone’s genuine love, someone’s genuine attention. He loves his friends and what they do for him, but to deny that he gets sad watching all of them be happier with someone else and each other would be stupid. 

He pulls himself out of his thoughts to find his eyes filled with tears and Kyungsoo blinking up at him, concerned. “You don't have to say it back,” he says carefully.

“Why wouldn't I say it back when I feel it too? I’m- I’m just having a moment here, is all.” He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand, a watery laugh escaping him. He murmurs, “I think I love you, too, Kyungsoo.”

The way Kyungsoo surges up to kiss him is so tender, so full of every emotion under the sun that it nearly offsets Baekhyun. He gasps into Kyungsoo’s mouth, addicted to the way this brand of affection feels already, the white hot prickle of it beneath his skin, the way his body seems to sing it’s appraises. Baekhyun didn't think it was possible for someone else to feel better than Yixing’s affection paired with his healing, but despite the slower heal, Kyungsoo’s affection, _love,_ is so much more than Baekhyun could have ever imagined, their exchange of words somehow unlocking this new level of feeling within him. 

Baekhyun, however, suddenly remembers how naked they are and bites his lip, nose poking at Kyungsoo’s cheek. “How do you feel now, Soo? Still scared?”

“A little,” Kyungsoo admits. “But… I think you’re a good distraction.” 

Baekhyun doesn't miss the way his eyes flit down between them, their cocks just shy of grazing. Baekhyun preens before letting a smirk slide onto his face. “I can be a _very_ good distraction, if you’ll let me.” He stops, realizing he was automatically sinking down, so eager to use his mouth. “Do you want-”

“-you to continue whatever you were doing before? Yes. If you want.”

“Are you sure? I don't mind just going to sleep-”

_”Baekhyun.”_

Baekhyun grins, leaning forward for one more kiss before rocking back and trailing his lips down Kyungsoo’s chest carefully, throwing in his teeth when he reaches Kyungsoo’s navel to make him shiver. “Kyungsoo,” he murmurs lowly, kissing his cock again. Kyungsoo squirms beneath him. “Do you ever touch yourself?”

“S-Someone has to.”

Baekhyun snorts, then purses his lips. “Sorry. Was that a joke?”

Kyungsoo’s lips twitch. “Don’t kill the mood, Baek.”

“Pff.” But Baekhyun clears his throat and nuzzles his nose along the line of Kyungsoo’s length. “What do you like?”

“You.”

Baekhyun coos. “You’re so cute. Remember when you hated me?” And quickly, to distract Kyungsoo from the comment, Baekhyun licks his cock from base to tip, drawing a quiet groan from him. “I like you too. I like… your thighs…” Baekhyun leans down to kiss the insides of them. “Your hips…” He carefully sweeps past Kyungsoo’s crotch to kiss each of his hips. “Your tummy…” He kisses his belly button before wiggling further up and wrapping his lips around one of Kyungsoo’s nipples. “Mm, your chest.” He spends a lot of time at Kyungsoo’s neck after that, working skin between his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. “Your neck. Your ears. Your eyes. Your nose and cheeks.” Every part gets a kiss, and Kyungsoo’s cheeks are flushed so pink it looks as if he might burst. “Your mouth though…” Blue and red flashing lights faintly fill the room from outside, but Baekhyun drinks from Kyungsoo’s mouth languidly, dutifully ignoring the small niggling dread in the back of his mind. “Your mouth is my favorite.” One more short peck and Baekhyun moves back down, admiring the way the colors bounce off of Kyungsoo’s beautiful skin, fingers digging into his thighs as he mutters, “Your dick is a close second though,” before gently sucking the head of Kyungsoo’s cock into his mouth. 

Kyungsoo’s answering moan is nothing if not strangled. “Fuck,” he breathes. “Baek-”

Humming, doing his best not to grin, Baekhyun takes him in a little further, gaze drifting up to the flush spreading across Kyungsoo’s chest, then to his fingers curling in the sheets. Baekhyun hums again, short, like he’s trying to tell Kyungsoo something, but the weight of dick on his tongue feels too good to pull away, so he reaches for one of Kyungsoo’s hands instead, guiding it to his head, eyes drooping when Kyungsoo tangles his fingers in his hair. Baekhyun’s hum this time is pleased, and he interrupts whatever Kyungsoo opens his mouth to say by sinking down until Kyungsoo’s cock hits the back of his throat.

Kyungsoo actually _squeaks_ and it’s the cutest thing Baekhyun has ever heard. He breathes in and out through his nose, hand slowly rubbing up and down Kyungsoo’s thigh, his arm curled around it for purchase. His other hand carefully wraps around the base of Kyungsoo’s cock so he can focus on sucking at the head, flicking his tongue along the slit, nails digging into Kyungsoo’s thighs when he’s rewarded with precome for his efforts.

Baekhyun only pulls away once his jaw starts to ache and he nuzzles into Kyungsoo’s thigh with heavy-lidded eyes, breathing through parted lips. He watches Kyungsoo’s chest rise and fall with heavy pants, fingers still clutching Baekhyun’s hair like a lifeline.

“Baek. I don’t- I don't think I’ll- last much longer like this. With you and your mouth-”

Baekhyun giggles, but it’s raspy and squeaky and the sound makes Kyungsoo sit up on his elbow. Sweat drips down his brow and Baekhyun kind of wants to lick it off. “I don't mind if you do, you know,” he says. “I’d like it if you come in my mouth.”

Falling back to the bed, Kyungsoo groans. “You’re so-”

“Dazzling, handsome, sexy?”

Kyungsoo chuckles out his disbelief. “Yeah, those things.”

“Thank you. Do you want to come in my mouth, Soo?”

A beat, then, “Y-Yeah.”

Baekhyun grins, then shimmies up the bed a bit to give himself better access. “Do it,” he insists before taking Kyungsoo’s cock back in his mouth.

It isn’t much longer, as Kyungsoo predicted. Baekhyun’s tongue is swirling relentlessly along Kyungsoo’s flesh and has a hand at his balls when his moans escalate, become a little more hurried, desperate, and Baekhyun feels him tighten in his mouth. “I’m gonna-”

Baekhyun hums his encouragement before relaxing his throat enough to take Kyungsoo’s cock as far as he can, almost to the base. He swallows and Kyungsoo cries out, thighs tightening around Baekhyun and hips uncontrollably jerking just enough to make him fuck Baekhyun’s throat, and _wow_ Baekhyun is hard and leaking and if he doesn't come soon, he might _implode._

Kyungsoo goes limp and Baekhyun eases off of his cock, swallowing any excess come that flooded his mouth with a pleased noise. “Fuck,” Kyungsoo pants. “Fuck. Baek- Baek, come here.”

Willing his body to calm the hell down, Baekhyun grins and crawls down the bed, falling onto his side next to Kyungsoo, sharing the lone pillow on this end of the bed. Kyungsoo turns onto his side as quickly as he’s able, body still clearly lethargic, and shoves forward to kiss Baekhyun’s lips.

Baekhyun thought he would have to wait but they click into place even more easily than before, driven by desperation, feeling. Baekhyun’s thigh slides between Kyungsoo’s until they’re fitted snug and Kyungsoo only breaks their kiss to look between them and carefully wrap his fingers around Baekhyun’s cock.

Baekhyun’s moan is shamelessly loud and Kyungsoo can only manage to muffle it with messy kisses for the first few moments, the kisses morphing into Baekhyun panting and moaning Kyungsoo’s name into Kyungsoo’s mouth and skin over and over, fingers tangled in Kyungsoo's hair, hips bucking into Kyungsoo’s grip while Kyungsoo learns him, what makes him tick, what he likes best.

Baekhyun comes with his face buried in Kyungsoo’s neck, latching his teeth onto skin for purchase until he has to tell Kyungsoo to stop, pushing his hand away, too sensitive to take anymore.

His eyes are still closed when Kyungsoo so, so gently kisses him. Baekhyun can only feebly reciprocate, hand resting on Kyungsoo’s cheek, relishing in the slow, soft, careful way Kyungsoo leads him, takes care of him, loves him.

“I love you, Kyungsoo,” he whispers.

Kyungsoo nods against him, noses bumping. Baekhyun opens his eyes. “I love you, too.” Kyungsoo meets his gaze halfway through the words and Baekhyun can’t help the way he surges forward to kiss him again. 

Baekhyun feels warmer than he ever has, more alive than he ever has. He loves love and loves Kyungsoo even more, he knows.

“Should we shower?” Kyungsoo quietly asks after a few more moments of sweet kisses. Baekhyun is hard-pressed to separate from him at all.

But he sighs and nods. “Should probably… strip the sheets too.” He grimaces, wiggling a little bit. He’s lying in his own come.

They make slow, lazy work of that, Baekhyun more interested in admiring Kyungsoo’s naked body than anything, touching it, making Kyungsoo smile and blush as he tries to ignore Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo leads the way to the bathroom and Baekhyun stops just before he steps inside, blinks as he glances around the apartment. The police lights are gone. The night is quiet through the window, a gentle breeze billowing the curtains inward. Baekhyun breathes out a sigh of relief and Kyungsoo comes back to grab his hand.

The shower is another slow affair, Baekhyun leaning into Kyungsoo while Kyungsoo washes him up, Baekhyun backing Kyungsoo against the wall, kisses lazy and thorough, staring at each other under the shower spray, matching smiles on their faces. 

They stumble from the shower, Baekhyun towel drying Kyungsoo’s hair, full of giggles and kisses and overwhelming happiness; they help each other into clothes–Baekhyun snug in one of Kyungsoo’s t-shirts and his own sweats–and fall right into bed, right back into the position they were in before they got up, only at the correct end of the bed this time.

They admire each other for a time, or at least, Baekhyun admires Kyungsoo. He’s exhausted, but he can't stop looking at this man, touching this man.

“Maybe we _are_ soulmates,” Baekhyun murmurs, drawing a line along Kyungsoo’s hairline with his finger.

Kyungsoo blinks. “What?” It comes out as half a laugh and Baekhyun loves this man.

He grins. “The very first time we bumped into each other. Your glove was ripped and I touched your hand, remember?” Kyungsoo hums, brows furrowed as he nods. “Obviously your power had an effect on me, but Yixing was holding my hand, so I just felt this _pull.”_

“I thought I hurt you.” Guilt is written all over Kyungsoo’s face but Baekhyun makes sure to smooth out the lines with his fingers, to gently kiss his lips.

“Disoriented, maybe, but no, not hurt.” Baekhyun sighs. “If you had hurt me, would I have kept seeking you out?”

Kyungsoo sighs, sliding closer, arm snaking around Baekhyun’s waist. “Reckless,” he mutters.

“Persistent,” Baekhyun playfully corrects. “I thought it meant something. I told Yixing we must be soulmates and wanted to run after you, but he wouldn't let me.” He makes sure to showcase his best pout before burrowing under Kyungsoo's chin and sighing with content.

“Yixing’s the smart one.”

Baekhyun rears back enough to pinch Kyungsoo’s stomach but Kyungsoo just slaps his hand away before pulling him close again. Baekhyun hums. “I’m the smart one. We _are_ soulmates. How else do you explain this?” Baekhyun slowly trails his hand under Kyungsoo’s shirt. 

“I can’t,” Kyungsoo admits quietly.

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Me neither. I never… thought I would be appreciative of my condition. But Youngshik _is_ powerful. Maybe it’s given me some kind of immunity here.”

“I keep waiting to wake up from a dream.”

Shaking his head again, Baekhyun rubs Kyungsoo’s side. “You’re gonna wake up and I’m still gonna be right here, in your arms. I’m real. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s what dream-you would say.”

“Goodnight, Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun giggles, and nuzzles Kyungsoo’s neck. He yawns. “Love you.”

“I love you, too. Goodnight, Baekhyun.”

\----

It’s well into the night when Baekhyun is taken.

Everything happens so fast; one moment, Kyungsoo is yelling at a woman clad in a police uniform, the next, he’s on the floor because of a blow to the head by her baton.

And when she comes for him, for Baekhyun, he has the presence of mind to back away, but he’s still on the bed and has nowhere to go, calling out for Kyungsoo, ice coursing through his veins, tears in his still sleep-heavy eyes. It’s a dream. This is all a dream. It’s not happening.

He watches as she raises her baton, and knocks him out, too.

\----

Baekhyun wakes up with a headache.

He groans, immediate reflex to clutch his head, only… he can't. 

He can't clutch his head because his arms are bound.

Panic seizes his chest. He's sitting in an uncomfortable-as-fuck chair, arms tied tightly to the arm rests and ankles tied to the legs like he's in some b-grade action film, and he has to think stupid things like this because he doesn't quite think anyone's hiding behind him to give him some nice snuggles so if the panic drains his life, he'll-

"Well. Look who's awake finally."

Bile rises in Baekhyun's throat. "Why are you doing this?" And there he goes with the b-grade action film jargon. His breath stutters in his throat as he struggles to breathe deeply. _Calm down, Baekhyun!_ he pleads with himself over and over. "What am I doing here?" he rasps out when Youngshik only laughs at him.

"This is rather dramatic, isn't it?" Youngshik steps out of the shadows of the corner of the room. Baekhyun has no fucking idea where they are. The concrete floor is covered in dirt. It looks like a dungeon. Do dungeons still exist? "But I've been watching you, Baekhyun. You're feisty. And well-protected. I had to take every precaution I could."

 _"I've been watching you-_ god you're such a fucking creep. But I already knew that. What do you want from me? If you're going to kill me just fucking do it. Stop dragging this out by showing up every few years to scare me." Baekhyun's fists clench painfully. "Asshole," he adds for good measure.

Youngshik laughs heartily, as if they're conversing about good times over a lovely dinner. "See? Feisty. You're definitely my son."

"No," Baekhyun practically spits. His energy is draining, hands starting to hurt where his nails dig into his palms. Only this time he's not watching body counts rise on the television and Yixing isn't there to stop him and heal him and hold him until Baekhyun stops crying. This is real, this is happening, and no one is here to save him. "Where's-" The breath rushes out of him so quickly it makes him cough. "Where's Kyungsoo? What did you do with him?" Kyungsoo. Soft, sweet, beautiful Kyungsoo. Tears flood his eyes rapid fire. Kyungsoo _has_ to be okay-

"Your little savior?" Youngshik rubs his chin. "I technically didn't do anything, son-”

"Don't. Call. Me. That."

"-it was my lovely little police friend that you called. She sure looked like she packed a mean punch, though, judging by that gash on your head." Baekhyun feels lightheaded at the sudden realization he can feel dried blood on his forehead. "Mm, and thighs that could smother you in the best way, if you know what I mean." Youngshik winks and Baekhyun gags, even moreso because he can see the family resemblance and he never wanted that kind of connection.

"Is Kyungsoo okay?" Baekhyun presses. Blue and red lights flash in his memory, a sweat-slick Kyungsoo smiling up at him. So happy, so happy they felt while an innocent woman was manipulated by a demon just a story below them.

Youngshik shrugs. "How should I know? I couldn't get in because of his cute little ward." He sighs almost wistfully. "It was almost too easy to compel her. Helen was her name. Beautiful, silky brown hair and doe eyes you could get lost in for days, if you're into that kinda thing.” Baekhyun remembers a frazzled woman with hair a mess and eyes wild. “But alas, some people are just so desperate for attention, for touch, for sex, that it takes nothing to manipulate them, you know. I'd say it's a shame but then I wouldn't have you here, right here and now after all these years, now would I, Baekhyun?"

Tears spill down Baekhyun's cheeks now. What if Kyungsoo's not okay? What if he's... all because of Baekhyun?

"I guess you'd know all about that though, wouldn't you?" Youngshik steps forward and takes a lock of Baekhyun's hair between his fingers. Baekhyun makes a noise of outrage. It's all he can do. "Oh, right," Youngshik sighs. "You get to write off your desperation as your _livelihood_ and people think it’s _sweet._ Tsk tsk. But what good is your little power if you don't even get to drain the life from people when you take from them, hmm?"

"I don't _want_ to drain the life from people," Baekhyun forces out. His throat is scratchy and he sees black dots amongst the blurry vision his tears leave him with. He yanks his head away from Youngshik, but the man merely grabs a handful of hair this time, tugging Baekhyun's head back. Baekhyun cries out. "This isn't a power. This is a disease. That _you_ gave me!"

Baekhyun doesn't like the way Youngshik's eyes light up, like he has an angle here; it makes the Baekhyun want to throw up again. "Tell me, Baekhyun. Did you enjoy your little plaything while you were sending the cops after me? He must have left a window cracked or something. Your moans and sweet-nothings carried all the way down to the street. Scandalized a nice lady walking her dog, you know. It sounded more than some casual thing, but you're such a little slut, sleeping with all of your friends, so you probably mean nothing to him just like you mean nothing to the others. Did you know you were fucking a demon? I could smell it on him when he grabbed you-"

"Shut _up!"_ Baekhyun shouts, squeezing his eyes shut when blood drips from his hands. "I don't sleep with all of my friends and Kyungsoo isn't just some plaything! Neither am I! I'm not you!"

"Ah, which so nicely brings me to my point, Baekhyun, because you _could_ be, you know. You could be just like me." Light floods the room as a door creaks open, somewhere behind Baekhyun.

"Why would I _ever-"_ Baekhyun breaks off in a sob when Youngshik yanks his head back even further, pushing the limits of his spine.

Youngshik hisses, and it’s the first time he’s truly looked just like what he is, a demon, as his eyes bleed into black. “Careful, Baekkie. My patience is wearing thin.” He roughly yanks his hand from Baekhyun’s hair, and a slender pair of arms wrap around Baekhyun’s neck from behind instead.

Baekhyun startles and his body aches from the pull on his bound limbs. He looks down but all he can see are two well-manicured hands with blood-red painted fingernails as they slowly slide down his chest. Tears spill from his eyes as he whispers, “What do you want?”

“I _want_ you to live a more fulfilling life, son. I want what any father would want, which would be for my son to live more comfortably. To not have to be so dependent on people who will never love him the way he wishes they did.”

Baekhyun jerks away as much as he can when the person behind him kisses his cheek. “Stop saying that.” Youngshik is poking at his weaknesses, but Baekhyun won’t let him win.

“Saying what? The truth?” Youngshik sneers and kneels down in front of him, resting his arms on top of Baekhyun’s. “You’re a liability, a commitment, an obligation, the way you are. No one wants to deal with your condition for life. But there’s a ritual. I can make you _better._ And then you can have whoever you want.” Baekhyun’s heard of it, the ritual. It’s extreme, for a Normal to become a Succubus or Incubus, but supposedly much, much simpler if the demon who performs it is a blood relative.

He spits on Youngshik’s face. “For a price that I’m not willing to pay!”

Just as quickly as the words leave him, Youngshik rears backward and backhands him across the mouth. The taste of copper immediately drips between his lips. _“Where’s your respect?”_ the demon seethes, wiping at his own face. “You don't _have_ to kill them if you’re really that concerned. In fact, many people, like Rose here–” He motions to the person embracing Baekhyun. She kisses his cheek again. “–choose to feed you. They get off on being your lifesource. They like taking care of handsome men and women. So see? You _can_ still be a good little boy if you’re like me.”

Baekhyun clenches his teeth, feeling more helpless by the minute. “What part of _I don’t want to be like you_ do you not understand?”

“Baekhyun, Baekhyun, listen.” Youngshik cosies up to him again, the black fading from his eyes to reveal normal, blue irises. “There are only benefits for you here, son-”

_“-Stop calling me that-”_

“-because with your condition, the people have to choose you, right? They have to feel something for you. But this way, _you_ choose the people. Your life won’t depend on how others feel about you. It all depends on you.”

“No…”

“No more disease, Baekhyunnie.” Youngshik’s eyes flash an icy, unnatural blue with the word _disease_ and Baekhyun forces his eyes closed, tucking his chin against his chest. That’s how he compels people, and Baekhyun can already feel something within him just from that quick moment, a pull that doesn’t have anything to do with his lurching stomach. But Youngshik must cue the woman, Rose, because she immediately gets her hand around the front of his neck, forcing his chin back up and keeping her hand cupped around his throat just on the side of too tightly. “Eyes open, Baekhyun. It’s rude not to look at your father.” Rose squeezes his neck, and his eyes pop open in surprise. Youngshik’s eyes are icy blue and Baekhyun can no longer look away. “Good. Now, as I was saying. You can go _days_ without touch like this. Then all it takes is a really fun hour to replenish your energy. Doesn’t that sound delightful? Say ‘yes, father’ because I’m feeling particularly narcissistic today.”

Baekhyun clenches his teeth again but doesn’t put up a physical struggle, because _the compulsion pull is gone_ and if he doesn’t reveal that maybe he can make it out of this. “Yes, father,” he forces through his teeth.

Youngshik smiles so wide it looks painful. “Now we’re getting somewhere! See how useful this skill is, too?” His eyes fade back to normal. “Now, don’t you want to become an Incubus?”

 _”Fuck. Off.”_ Baekhyun spits again, only this time, he sends blood flying too.

Abruptly, Youngshik stands and strikes Baekhyun on the other side of his mouth, then he leans down to nastily whisper in his ear, "You little shit. Why would I ever want a son who doesn't know independence? Weak and soft like you? You're a fucking disgrace, Baekhyun. Tarnishing my reputation with your fucking neediness. I bet you really can't go a full day without someone giving you a special touch, can you?"

Baekhyun can, but not like this. “This… is all about your _reputation?”_ Of course it is. Of course ruining Baekhyun’s life is all about a precious demon’s reputation. He’s going to be sick.

“Reputation is very important in our world, Baekhyun. It’s luxury and power.” Baekhyun tries to stretch his jaw out but he winces and Youngshik laughs. “How about you sleep on it, hm? Though I think the choice is obvious, son. Become like me, or die.” Baekhyun’s heart sinks. “Do you want Rose for the night? I’ll lend her to you.”

_”No.”_

“Tsk tsk, Baekhyun. She’s such a good time.” Rose lets go of him and Youngshik tilts his head. “Unless… ah. I see.” He grins. “Maybe I’ll bring you a man tomorrow. Will that make you happy?”

Baekhyun sobs. “No, it won’t. Just let me go. Please.”

“Begging doesn’t become you. See you later. _Son.”_

And then Youngshik is gone, and with it, all of Baekhyun’s hope.

He cries for an unending amount of time, sobs wracking his body, blood and tears dripping onto his lap. Guilt drowns him, because he put himself in this situation, after everyone in his life devoted theirs to protecting him, he got himself _kidnapped._ He thinks about how the last thing he did was yell at all of his friends, push Yixing away, and… Kyungsoo… he doesn’t even know if Kyungsoo is alive.

But by the time his tears have dried up, Baekhyun is boneless, hands limp and head hanging. He hiccups. He has to shift his focus if he wants to survive.

He focuses on Kyungsoo, the good, not the horrid possibilities, remembers how it felt when they exchanged I Love Yous, how he had felt a warmth that didn't quite match with the usual body contact warmth.

He does his best to reimmerse himself in the memory of being with Kyungsoo, to remember the way Kyungsoo’s fingers brushed through his hair, how his bare hands felt on Baekhyun’s bare skin. He smiles. _I think I do love you._ Baekhyun doesn't know how he got so lucky to be loved by someone like Kyungsoo in his short lifetime.

By the time he falls asleep–or passes out from exhaustion–he actually does feel a little better.

Warmer.

\----

Youngshik walks in the next day, or night, or… Baekhyun doesn’t know… with a glass of water and bag of chips saying, “Rose reminded me that you have to eat, so you should thank her sometime.” Without further prompting, he drops the chips on Baekhyun’s lap and tilts his head back enough to pour some water into his mouth. Most of it sloshes over the sides of his lips but he gulps down what he can, parched.

And about three chips into hand feeding Baekhyun, Youngshik pauses. “You know… I guess I should ask what you’re decision is before I waste my time feeding you, shouldn’t I?” A chill crawls down Baekhyun’s spine. This is really it, then. “Well?” Youngshik prompts. “Do you want to be better and healthier? Do you want the ritual? This is your last chance.”

A deep breath, and then, “No.”

Youngshik nods as if he expected this, then stands and drops the open bag of chips on his lap again. “Then you die.” He walks away and Baekhyun waits for the door to slam shut, but it doesn’t come yet. Youngshik speaks again. “I, frankly, can’t wait to watch your slow, painful death.”

The door slams, then, and Baekhyun makes peace with his decision, silently sending up a prayer to whatever God there may or may not be that his friends forgive him, and move on quickly.

\----

Baekhyun falls in and out of sleep over and over, weaker every time he wakes up again, until he’s so weak he can barely blink, let alone hold up his head. Sometimes he’s met with silence, others he’s met with Youngshik’s laugh, so distant, like Baekhyun is underwater, and Youngshik is holding his head down from above.

Baekhyun knows he doesn’t have long left.

\----

When the crash wakes him, when the shouting reaches his ears, Baekhyun thinks he’s already gone. Passing through some kind of warzone purgatory maybe.

And when his ropes are cut and he’s pulled into familiar arms, he’s just made it into heaven.

\----

The world is too bright, blinding, when Baekhyun opens his eyes next.

His vision blurs, wall decorations pulling together, the ceiling swimming. He aches all over. _There’d be no pain if I had made it to heaven, right?_ It’s not as comforting a thought as he expected. 

He tries to shift but it _hurts_ and something is pinning him down. He cries out, tears welling in his eyes. Why is he still trapped?

 _”Baekhyun?!”_ a surprised voice gently exclaims close to his ear while he struggles to take a breath. “Baekhyun, Baekhyun. It’s okay.” The weight lifts from his stomach and shifts, moving the bed Baekhyun only just realizes he’s lying on. “Baekhyun, look at me.” A hand gently pulls his face to the right, and Baekhyun blinks until he thinks he can distinguish the shape of Yixing.

Tears spill across Baekhyun’s nose, down his temple. “Wh-Why do you sound lik-” He coughs, throat on fire. “-y-you’re under-” More coughing. “Why can’t I see you?”

“It-It’s okay, Baekhyun,” Yixing’s trembling voice tells him. “You still have a long way to go. You’ll get better. Don’t try to talk anymore. Try to drink some water.”

A hand tilts his head forward while a glass is held up to his lips and water slowly poured into his mouth. He chokes on more of it than he swallows, but it still feels good, he thinks. “Th-Thought I was still… trapped…”

It takes a moment before Yixing mutters, “Shit. I-I’m so sorry. I won’t- I won’t hold you like that again. I just- fell asleep. I didn’t think-”

Baekhyun makes a noise in his throat, something that he hopes conveys _it’s okay._ “Is… Kyungsoo…”

“He’s okay. He’s just taking a shower. He’ll be here when you wake up again. I promise.”

A shaky breath pushes past his lips, relief palpable in every inch of him. And then his eyes close again.

\----

The world is too bright, blinding, when Baekhyun opens his eyes next.

His eyes focus on the painting across from the bed he’s resting in first. It’s one of Yixing’s personal favorites by an artist out of Beijing. He loves it so much he brought it to Minjung’s house with him. 

Fingers gently comb through his hair, over and over, and he smiles.

“Baekhyun,” a low voice murmurs.

Baekhyun turns his head, turns his smile on the true face of an angel, his angel, propped up on his elbow and watching over Baekhyun. 

Kyungsoo’s thick eyebrows sink as his eyelids flutter, like he’s overcome with emotion suddenly, and his hand moves from Baekhyun’s hair to Baekhyun's face. “Baekhyun,” he says again, and Baekhyun’s vision is clear enough to see the tears brimming in Kyungsoo’s eyes. 

Baekhyun reaches his hand up, though it takes nearly all of his effort. He’s not in pain, but his muscles strain, too weak to really do anything. But he pushes himself to cup Kyungsoo’s face right back anyway, swiping at the tears that fall. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispers, because it’s all his aching throat allows.

 _”You’re_ so glad-” Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Shut up.” And then he leans down to press their lips together and Baekhyun’s heart _blooms._

This is the warmth that kept him alive, fighting. 

His eyes burn as everything hits him at once, the sudden memory of the pain, panic, and terror, the resignation to his own death, the guilt for leaving everyone behind. He breaks away from Kyungsoo’s lips, soundless sobs overcoming him but still holding Kyungsoo in place. The relief of being here, alive, with Kyungsoo is almost too much.

Kyungsoo starts kissing Baekhyun’s forehead. “It’s okay now,” he shakily whispers between kisses. “We’re okay.”

“Wh-Where’s Youngshik?”

For a moment, Kyungsoo just leaves his mouth pressed to Baekhyun’s skin, then he quietly says, “You don't have to worry about him anymore.”

\----

Baekhyun sleeps again after that, but not until he’s carefully arranged with his head on Kyungsoo’s chest without disturbing the I.V. in his arm.

When he wakes, he’s still comfortably in Kyungsoo’s arms, but there’s an extra hand on his back, under his shirt, spreading warmth. “Yixing,” Baekhyun mutters.

“Hey,” Yixing rubs his back. “How are you feeling?”

Stretching his legs a little, curling his toes, Baekhyun inhales deeply. “Okay, I think.” He slowly picks up his head, which is much heavier than usual, to look at Kyungsoo. He’s sleeping peacefully, so Baekhyun carefully starts to turn over while keeping Kyungsoo’s arm around him, but Yixing ends up having to help him, especially when it comes to the uncomfortable I.V. stuck in his arm. “When can I take this out?” he frowns.

Yixing cups his cheek, a sympathetic smile on his face. “As soon as you feel okay to eat and drink on your own.”

Baekhyun nods, paying closer attention to his body. His stomach does seem rather on the empty side and his throat is too parched. “I’d like to eat something.” He winces. Yeah, his voice doesn't even sound like his own it’s so scratchy.

“Anything you want.” Yixing’s eyebrows pull together, however, and Baekhyun watches his eyes fill with tears.

“Yixing…”

“Didn’t I tell you not to almost die on me ever again? H-How did you last that long?” Yixing whispers, pain dripping from his voice. “It took- It took more than two days to find you and you-” Yixing shakes his head. “Y-You were basically dead when I got to you. It was- I thought it was bad when Kyungsoo drained you, but _this…_ You didn't even look like yourself anymore.”

Baekhyun swallows, hugging Kyungsoo’s arm to his body but pressing into Yixing’s hand on his cheek. “It was Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun eventually whispers back. “He loves me. I think he kept my heart beating.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to explain it, but I… could draw the tiniest bits of energy from thinking about my night with him, before I was…” Taken. Before Baekhyun was _kidnapped._ Just thinking about it is surreal. “Maybe it wasn't even real energy, but it helped.”

Yixing’s gaze shifts to Kyungsoo. “I guess we owe him even more now.”

Baekhyun frowns. “What do you mean?”

But Yixing smiles and shakes his head, leaning down to kiss Baekhyun’s forehead. “We’ll tell you everything soon, I promise. First you should try to eat something. I’ll make you dinner while the others come in and see you. Is that okay?”

Baekhyun offers him a small smile and nods.

And after emotional reunions with everyone one by one, Jongdae, Junmyeon, Minseok, Minjung, Yifan, and Yixing all pile into the guest room with Baekhyun and Kyungsoo for dinner, a _family_ dinner, Minjung emphasizes from his place at the end of the bed, and Baekhyun melts at the way he beams at Kyungsoo, clearly including him, and nuzzles his cheek against his boyfriend’s shoulder happily. 

Baekhyun feels a little more like himself by the end of the meal, but he’s also antsy, because there’s a gigantic fucking elephant in the room that everyone is avoiding and they're clearly running out of things to talk about other than _it._

But finally, after a too-lengthy silence, Minjung ushers everyone but himself, Yixing, and Kyungsoo from the room, while Minseok collects their plates and quietly exits the room with the rest of them.

“Tell me everything,” Baekhyun says, ignoring the way his voice trembles. “I want to know everything.”

Minjung nods while Kyungsoo’s arm around Baekhyun’s waist tightens. Yixing squeezes his knee. “Well,” Minjung starts. “There’s really not that much to tell.”

Eyebrows pulling together, Baekhyun asks, “How did you find me? Where was I?”

“You were underground,” Minjung answers, glancing at his lap. “We probably never would have found you without Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun turns his head to look at Kyungsoo, eyes curious while Minjung continues, “He contacted his aunt, who taught him how to cast wards, and she had a location spell.”

“That’s a thing?” Baekhyun looks back at Minjung, hand rubbing Kyungsoo’s stomach.

Everyone around him nods. “Problem was…” Minjung sighs. “Location spells take twenty four hours to gestate, so to speak. And even once we had a location, it took us way too long to realize you were underground.”

“There’s a network of underground tunnels beneath downtown,” Yixing adds. “They’re not historical so we’re pretty positive it’s something Youngshik somehow constructed.”

Minjung nods. “Or demons who came before him. The location spell said you were in the grocery store across from Kyungsoo’s shop.”

He was so close the whole time, Baekhyun realizes. To Kyungsoo, to familiarity.

“We interrogated the hell out of those poor shop owners.” Minjung snorts, but there’s not much humor behind it. “But long story short, they let us look around, and out back, behind the shop was a little private lot that they use to take breaks. There was a trapdoor hidden beneath a patch of fake grass that led underground to a series of tunnels, and some rooms, and we found you in one of those.”

Baekhyun lets this process for a moment before inhaling deeply and asking the big question. “What about Youngshik?”

“He was in the room with you,” Yixing mutters. “Just watching you.” His hand trembles on Baekhyun’s knee, so Baekhyun rests his own hand over it.

“We had to get past a woman outside the door.” _Rose,_ Baekhyun remembers. Minjung continues, “It wasn’t hard and she had a key, so we busted in pretty easily. We just didn't have much of a plan other than _save Baekhyun at all costs.”_

Baekhyun's stomach churns uncomfortably. 

“Youngshik tried to compel Jongdae,” Yixing says.

Minjung nods. “But we learned some other things from Kyungsoo’s aunt. Like how to cast Wards on people, for protection against things like, say, an Incubus’ compulsion.”

Baekhyun can only nod along.

“He’s powerful,” Minjung says. “But without his compulsion or his sidekick, even with his extra strength, he was too outnumbered. Yixing went straight to you, but the rest of us surrounded Minjung.”

“Did anyone get hurt?” Baekhyun whispers.

Minjung shakes his head. “Not for you to worry yourself over.”

“Uncle.”

Sighing, Minjung edges his gaze on Kyungsoo. “Youngshik had a pocketknife. He got Kyungsoo and Junmyeon-” 

Baekhyun jerks away from Kyungsoo, hand leaving Yixing’s to rest on Kyungsoo’s stomach again. “You-” He feels around for a bandage through Kyungsoo’s shirt, but can’t find anything.

“I’m okay,” Kyungsoo quickly insists. “I’m healed. It’s okay.” He picks up Baekhyun’s antsy hand and holds it up to his lips. Baekhyun sags with relief.

“Yes…” Minjung drawls. “They’re both healed up now. Junmyeon getting stabbed actually worked to our advantage-”

 _”Uncle!”_ Yixing scolds.

“Look, kid, I didn’t say it was _good_ that he got stabbed, just that it gave Kyungsoo an opening!”

 _”It’s still insensitive, Uncle!”_ Yixing exclaims, but it’s distant to Baekhyun’s ears, who focuses on Kyungsoo instead.

Kyungsoo slowly lowers Baekhyun’s hand, worrying the inside of his cheek between his teeth. “Did you…?” Baekhyun whispers with wide eyes.

The room falls silent and carefully, so carefully, Kyungsoo nods. “It- It wasn’t exactly the plan but he- when he turned to attack Junmyeon, his- his neck was exposed and I don’t- I don’t know what came over me. I just reached out-”

“You were protecting Junmyeon,” Yixing quietly inserts. “You were protecting Baekhyun. You saved his life. You saved the rest of his life.”

“Still, I just-”

“No,” Minjung says. “You don’t have to feel bad about this, I’ve already told you. Youngshik was quite literally evil. He killed at least 100 people in his lifetime and he was sitting there, _enjoying_ watching Baekhyun _rot.”_ Baekhyun winces, despite drowning in shock.

He gently gasps a breath in, blinking watery eyes up at Kyungsoo’s equally watery ones. “He’s dead? Y-You drained his-?”

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo chokes out. “I-”

A sob escapes Baekhyun’s chest and he throws his arms around Kyungsoo’s neck, burying his face there and breathing him in. _Youngshik is dead. Youngshik is gone for good and Kyungsoo is here and everyone is here._

They don’t have to go through something like this ever again.

“Thank you,” Baekhyun cries. He’s never felt so free. “Thank you.”

\----

“Do you feel okay?” Baekhyun whispers later when he’s alone with Kyungsoo again, the lights off and Baekhyun I.V.-free since he kept food and water down well.

“Do I feel okay?” Kyungsoo huffs, breath blowing Baekhyun’s hair from his face. “Do _you_ feel okay?”

Baekhyun carefully caresses his fingers along Kyungsoo’s face--the room a bit too dark to clearly make out features--and smiles when his thumb connects with Kyungsoo’s lips. “I mean…” Kyungsoo kisses his thumb. “After everything that happened. You were- knocked out, and- and stabbed, and you- took Youngshik’s life, it’s… a lot.”

Baekhyun listens to Kyungsoo breathe in and out, in and out, taking his time to answer, while Baekhyun merely strokes his lips, his cheeks. “It healed me. So the- other things don’t really matter.” Another lengthy pause. “I thought that I would feel… powerful, feel his power even, but I… actually have felt a bit empty since. I don’t feel the same, but I don’t know what’s different.”

“Is it good or bad?”

“I don’t know,” Kyungsoo answers sincerely. “I think it’s good. I mean, feeling empty is better than feeling suddenly evil, right?”

Baekhyun uses his thumb as a guide to kiss Kyungsoo’s lips. “You could never turn evil. You already prove the impossible by being a good Diminisher.”

“I still worry, though,” Kyungsoo whispers.

Shaking his head, Baekhyun kisses him again and whispers back, “You’re not evil, Soo. I had an evil father, I would know, okay?” He giggles even though his words keep repeating in his head. _Had. Had. I had an evil father. Had._

But Kyungsoo shuts his mind right up, kissing Baekhyun deeply enough to make his toes curl and throat hum. _”Are_ you okay?” Kyungsoo eventually asks, just on the verge of breathless. “How do you feel?”

Baekhyun smiles. “Free. I feel free.”

\----

Baekhyun’s full recovery takes about another week, though he insists it’s Minjung and Yifan holding him back, too antsy to stay in bed, in the house, especially once Kyungsoo goes back to work. 

Though he always comes back in the evening, ready to hold Baekhyun through the unavoidable nightmares.

 _”You insisted I go to work! I would have stayed with you,”_ Kyungsoo exclaims one day when Baekhyun calls him claiming to be “bored out of his mind” but really, Minjung had just scolded him with, _”Kid, we basically brought you back from the dead and your vitals aren’t as stable as they could be. You’re staying in bed unless you’re doing some physical therapy,”_ and Baekhyun just needed a minor distraction from the reminder.

“But I love you~” Baekhyun sings, a triumphant smile overtaking his face when Kyungsoo huffs, flustered.

He grumbles a low, _”I love you, too,”_ and Baekhyun beams, properly distracted.

And when his week is up a few days later, when Minjung finally grants him the freedom he has felt so fully since he learned of Youngshik’s death, the first place Baekhyun goes is the coffee shop.

He walks with his face pointed at the sky, smiling as the sun casts its warmth onto his skin, as the breeze rustles his hair. It’s busy, downtown, just like the day he met Kyungsoo.

When he enters the shop, it’s bustling with life. The line is nearly to the door and every table is filled, including… Kyungsoo’s table. _Their_ table. He frowns, but then someone calls his name from behind the counter. 

Seulgi waves at him, grinning widely, and mouths, “He’s upstairs.”

Relief melts him and he nods, happily waving back and weaving his way through the masses until he’s finally to the staircase. He silently thanks Minjung for having him rebuild his strength by walking around the house some when he makes it up the stairs with no issues, and grins unbearably wide at Kyungsoo’s undressing silhouette through the dark, sliding shades that divide his room from the rest of the studio.

Baekhyun slips through the small crack in the divider before Kyungsoo has a chance to put another shirt on, and throws himself into his boyfriend’s arms. “You could just go without that, you know,” he mumbles into Kyungsoo’s neck, plucking the shirt from his hand and tossing it somewhere behind himself.

“Tempt you during shop hours?” Kyungsoo makes a show of pondering, and then his face flattens as he says, “No.” But his arms wrap comfortably around Baekhyun’s waist and he nudges Baekhyun’s nose just before he kisses him soundly, so Baekhyun’s not even close to giving up. “Hi,” Kyungsoo mumbles between kisses.

“Hi.”

Baekhyun giggles and tugs Kyungsoo onto the bed and on top of him, hands happily roaming the expanse of Kyungsoo’s bare skin, thighs snugly hugging Kyungsoo’s hips. “Welcome back,” Kyungsoo whispers into his lips. “The shop isn’t the same without you in it anymore.”

And that, for some reason, says so much more to Baekhyun than exchanging _I love yous_ does, because this is Kyungsoo’s _life,_ his job _and_ his home. And he wants Baekhyun here, is already used to him being a part of it.

Baekhyun wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s neck as tightly as he can, tucking his nose into the crook between it and his shoulder.

“You okay?” Kyungsoo quietly asks after a moment.

Baekhyun nods. “Never better. I just love you a lot, and now I get to say it until you’re sick of hearing it.”

Kyungsoo just shakes his head and kisses his neck, letting Baekhyun cling to his heart’s content.

And he really only starts squirming when he realizes something is under him. “What am I laying on, Soo?”

“Hm?” Kyungsoo picks his head up. “Oh. I got a letter from my aunt today.”

Baekhyun digs it out from between his back and the bed. “You haven’t read it?” he notes, eyeing the still-sealed envelope.

Kyungsoo shrugs. “It was just delivered here before you showed up.”

“Well…” Baekhyun skillfully manhandles Kyungsoo until Baekhyun is sprawled on top of him, then he settles down, contently sighing into Kyungsoo’s neck. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“Weren’t you whining every day about being stuck in bed?”

Baekhyun smiles. “Never whined about being stuck on my Kyungsoo, though.” He blindly pushes the letter at Kyungsoo’s face. “Read it.”

Sighing, Kyungsoo takes the letter and Baekhyun just listens to the tearing of the envelope, the crinkling of paper, matching their breaths and shutting his eyes.

But after a moment, Kyungsoo freezes. He stops breathing altogether. 

Baekhyun picks his head up just before Kyungsoo rapidly sits up, knocking Baekhyun to the bed and making him cry out.

Baekhyun scrambles to sit up too, watching as Kyungsoo’s eyes dart back and forth across the letter over and over and _over_ again, until Baekhyun can’t take it anymore. “What is it?!”

Kyungsoo’s wide eyes turn on him slowly, and his mouth opens but no sound comes out. He hands the letter to Baekhyun.

_Dear Kyungsoo,_

_There’s no good way to segue into what I need to say,_  
_so I just need to say it. When your mother became_  
_pregnant with you, your father became even more of_  
_a jackass than he already was. He still demanded she_  
_work, but this time for HERSELF. He had no intention_  
_of contributing anything to raising you, no money, no_  
_support, no love. He was much more disastrous than_  
_I ever let on when telling you about him, though I think_  
_my distaste for him was always clear. Anyway. To put it_  
_as absolutely simply as I can, I took it upon myself to_  
_place a curse on him. I was an amateur and so driven_  
_by protecting my sister and my unborn nephew, that I_  
_let my haste overcome my accuracy. I… thought I had_  
_succeeded, in transforming your father into a demon_  
_damned to hell, and I did, actually, but I had no idea that_  
_it also affected you, Kyungsoo. Until you were born._

_Please never blame yourself for her death, Kyungsoo._  
_It was really, truly my fault._

_You deserved to know this sooner, I know, but you have_  
_to know I had my reasons. All this time, I’ve been_  
_searching for a way to reverse your curse, and you_  
_son of a goddess! You broke the damn curse yourself!_  
_Seulgi has been keeping tabs on you and your curse_  
_for me since I moved away to dig deeper into research._  
_She’s a Pathfinder, Kyungsoo. She can sense people’s_  
_powers and goodness. She points them in the right_  
_direction, to help them find their path. She led you to_  
_Baekhyun, encouraged you, because she sensed he_  
_was the key to your freedom, and he was, Kyungsoo._

_You fell in love with each other. A boy who needs touch_  
_to survive fell in love with the boy who can’t touch, and_  
_triggered the breaking of the curse. The Powers That Be_  
_granted you the ability to touch him, didn’t they? But then_  
_you saved his life. You intentionally used your power for_  
_the first time to rid the world of one of the most notoriously_  
_evil demons in the Supernatural world, to save the love of_  
_your life. Draining his life drained your power, Kyungsoo._

_You’re human again, as you were always meant to be._

_I’m sorry I’m not courageous enough to face you with this,_  
_and I’m sorry that I am the reason you’ve had to live this_  
_way in the first place, but I hope you can find peace and_  
_happiness in your new, human life._

_Take care, Kyungsoo._  
_Sincerely,_  
_Aunt Sun_

Baekhyun understands the speechlessness now, reads over the letter himself several times, just as Kyungsoo had. Only then, he blurts out, “Oh my god you’re a Disney princess,” and covers his mouth as quickly as he said it. “I don’t know why I said that- now is so not the time _oh my god.”_ Setting the paper on the bed, Baekhyun now scrambles until he lands on top of Kyungsoo and cups his face in his hands. _”Kyungsoo.”_ Kyungsoo blinks blankly up at him. “This is why you feel different!”

“I can’t- this isn’t possible…”

“It’s clearly possible!” Baekhyun reaches behind him to grab the letter again, holding it up and shaking it. “Says so right here!”

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “What if I- how would I even know-?”

Biting his lip, Baekhyun sits back on his haunches and digs out his phone. He quickly snaps a picture, and sends it off in a group message with his friends.

 **baekhyun:** _need volunteer & yixing asap!!!!!!_

And quicker than either Kyungsoo or Baekhyun read the letter, he gets a response.

 **xingxing:** _On our way._

Baekhyun turns his phone to face Kyungsoo, triumphant grin on his face, but Kyungsoo’s eyes only widen further. “I-I can’t, Baekhyun! I can’t put anyone at risk- I’m-”

“Kyungsoo.” Baekhyun drops everything in his hands to hold Kyungsoo’s face again. “I know in my gut that this is real. And I think you know it, too. You said you felt empty after you killed Youngshik. It must have been because you lost your power. You’re human, Soo. You’ve always been human, really.”

Kyungsoo just shakes his head mindlessly, mind clearly somewhere else. “Seulgi’s a Pathfinder. She… I had no idea she’s a Supernatural- and I- never would have kept letting you hang around if it hadn't been for her. She kept saying she thought you’d be good for me, I…”

“God, I really need to thank her.”

Staring up at him, Kyungsoo nods. “Me too.”

It doesn’t take long for Yixing to arrive with Junmyeon in tow, which Baekhyun tilts his head at from his spot on Kyungsoo’s lap.

“It’s the least I can do,” Junmyeon mutters, rubbing his abdomen.

“Y-You don’t have to do it at all-” Kyungsoo sputters out but it’s too late.

Junmyeon rushes forward and cups Kyungsoo’s face in his hands.

The room collectively freezes. Baekhyun’s lips part as he stares at Junmyeon’s hands, too scared to look at either his or Kyungsoo’s faces, too scared to read their reactions.

But then, “Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo whispers. “Baek, he’s- Baek, look, he’s-” Kyungsoo’s voice breaks off as quiet sobs overcome him and Baekhyun watches Kyungsoo’s trembling hands reach up and cup Junmyeon’s steady ones.

Junmyeon is smiling, and very, very much alive.

Tears fall down the lines of Junmyeon’s hands, and fill Baekhyun’s up as well. Kyungsoo deserves to live a free life, _they_ deserve to live a free life _together._

Junmyeon backs away after wiping some of Kyungsoo’s tears, and Kyungsoo dives into Baekhyun’s embrace, trembling as he leaks tears onto Baekhyun’s neck. “Thank you,” Kyungsoo quietly cries. “Thank you.”

**[a few months later]**

“Seulgi, can you grab the step ladder? I want to get the holiday decorations d- Baekhyun!” Kyungsoo beams from where he’s steaming milk behind the counter as Baekhyun walks into the coffee shop, and Baekhyun doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how cute Kyungsoo looks in a t-shirt, jeans, and apron.

Baekhyun grins a million watts and makes grabby hands until Kyungsoo passes off his mug of milk to Jun, a new barista, and rounds the counter to gather Baekhyun into his arms and kiss him silly in the middle of the shop.

It earns them a few _oohs_ and _ahhs_ from patrons nestled warmly at their tables, but it’s a display regulars are used to at this point, which Seulgi is quick to point out as she emerges from the stockroom with the step ladder. “As if you guys didn’t see each other last night.” She play-scoffs and Baekhyun sticks his tongue out at her.

“Wrong, we saw each other this morning!” All day, Baekhyun has been able to feel the warmth of the space heater and the cold air from the open window on their bare, sweat-slick skin while Baekhyun was buried deep inside Kyungsoo in the early hours of the morning, the sun barely even out to play yet.

“Disgusting,” Seulgi teases.

Baekhyun walks Kyungsoo over to Their Table, hand in hand, and sits right next to him, as he usually does now. He leans his head on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Yixing and Yifan wanna have dinner tonight. Is that okay?”

Kyungsoo hums, contemplative. “I really wanted to get the shop decorated tonight…”

“Oh!” Baekhyun sits up, eyes bright. “Maybe we could order food and eat here? We could all help decorate.” Baekhyun _loves_ holiday decorations.

“How about I make dinner?” Kyungsoo offers instead, then pokes Baekhyun’s stomach. “You eat too much takeout and ramen. You’ll turn into ramen before you know it.” 

Baekhyun squirms and giggles, before exclaiming, “I’ll help!”

“No.”

“But Kyungsoo!”

“Last time I let you cook in my apartment, you burned Mac and Cheese-”

“It was an _accident-”_

Kyungsoo laughs. “You can order sides to go with whatever I make, okay?”

Baekhyun pretends to pout, but it doesn’t last long, quickly morphing into a pleased grin. “Okay.”

This is the best time of his life, Baekhyun thinks later as he holds mistletoe over his and Kyungsoo’s heads while Yifan spots Yixing on the step ladder to hang lights behind the counter. Seulgi and Joy, Seulgi’s girlfriend, giggle over cups of hot chocolate at a table nearby, taking a break from the Triple-Date-Christmas-Decorating-Marathon and cheering Baekhyun on as he gets as many kisses from Kyungsoo as possible. Everyone glows in the holiday lights, a fairy tale image for Baekhyun’s fairy tale life.

This is the best time of his life, from now until the end of time.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to the mods for being the absolute best!! and thank you to the prompter for such a wonderful, wonderful prompt. i'm just sorry this got so out of hand sjklgskl i hope you don't completely hate it + i'm hoping one day to expand on it! life really got in the way of me writing this, so i had to take some shortcuts, but i hope it was still readable. 
> 
> you can follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/CUPBA3K) (and also buy me a coffee there, if you want.) <3
> 
> comments and kudos are always much, much appreciated! <3


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